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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26310928">Echoes of eternity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Licey/pseuds/Licey'>Licey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual Character, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mental Health Issues, Necromancy, No Beta, POV Jasper Hale, Possessive Jasper Hale, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Somewhat Dark Jasper Hale, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, We Die Like Men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:01:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26310928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Licey/pseuds/Licey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Theresa Garnier wasn't a disaster waiting to happen. It already happened, in fact, one time too many times. Moving into Forks with a closet full of talking skeletons and a reckless attitude, her only hope was to keep everything she touched from turning into ashes, again.<br/>Jasper was not a Cullen in the same way he was no Hale. Sometimes he daydreamed about being Jasper Whitlock, but high school, college, high school again and he was none of them. However, meeting a gifted girl in the woods brought back a part of him he was never able to bury: the hunter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale, Jasper Hale/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Loneliness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have strong opinions on the Cullens and Bella, however there will be no bashing. Only some stupid character behaving stupidly because they are... surprisingly stupid. English is not my first language, so any corrections are welcome. Hope you enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Theresa stared at the ceiling. She could hear her mother moving downstairs. A quick glance at the clock told her she would be leaving for her shift in thirty minutes. The smell of pancakes had woken the girl at least one hour ago, but she still found it more comfortable to wait until Anne was gone before venturing herself in the kitchen.</p><p>Stifling a yawn, she picked her laptop from the middle of the covers. She already had one new email from her aunt asking if she was fine and telling her to call. Theresa could almost hear the sweet voice weighted with worry. Guilt twisted her guts and she sent a quick answer promising to call later. It would be better to wait for her mother to leave before calling anyone. And before getting ready. And before eating.</p><p><em>“You can’t avoid her forever. Believe me, if you could I would be the first to beg you to,” </em>an old woman’s rough voice echoed in the room “<em>but sooner or later she will want to talk with you and it’ll be less damaging if it’s on your terms and initiative than her pursuit and pressure.”</em></p><p>She whispered back “Not avoiding, I’m hiding.”</p><p><em>“The old hag’s right this time, Theresa. Better to start the discussion yourself than wait to be cornered around.” </em>She turned herself belly down on the mattress and stuffed her face on the pillow when Ethan’s made his opinion known.</p><p>“Et tu, Brute?” Her muffled voice sounded pathetic even to herself. She sat down and rubbed her eyes. “I am too tired right now, jet leg and everything. And no, this is not an excuse.” She stared at Sofia’s skeptical face. Wide white hair, wrinkles and small mean eyes, she fitted the bill for the crazy hag with some amazing advices and malicious suggestions. She was with Theresa since always. When asked why or how or when, the old woman would joke about one day crossing paths with an air head of a child who stepped on her leg when running on the sidewalk and then waking up as the little girl personal ghost. Theresa hated to remember about that part of the story. Somehow, she knew about Sofia’s bitter relationships, rough path and abandonment culminating on living the end of her life homeless. Sofia was hers though, so she couldn’t feel pity when she was able to feel the cruel strike and anger marking the ghost. But she was no judge and she also wouldn’t let go of the old woman.</p><p>Ethan’s was different. He had been her best friend before being her ghost. Although his death was hers, her fault, her own mistake, she couldn’t free him either.</p><p>The front door was slammed bringing Theresa out of her daze. Leaving her bared-walled room, she walked on the tip of her toes until going downstairs and stablishing she was alone. Letting out a breath of relief, she served herself of the food on the stove. Sitting on the counter she ate her food in silence. The kitchen was well organized with white cupboards, deep red stools and light wood on the floor. Everything was clean, from the lustrous ground to the fridge’s inox. She washed her dish and went explore the rest of the house. Her house. She had been living with her aunt since she was five years old and despite never quite seeing her aunt as a mother, she also couldn’t place that figure on Anne.</p><p>The living room was cozy with one large black couch and two gray chairs. Soft yellow and white cushions and a glass side table brough a more modern air to the place. The curtains matched. <em>“You recovered from the jet leg pretty quickly.” </em>Ethan was beside her, watching the place while Sofia paced. She was uncomfortable on new places.</p><p><em>“Jet leg. Jet leg... We had a different name for cowardice before. I think it was, uh, yes, cowardice.” </em>She also tended to lash out even more when she was uncomfortable. Sofia was hard to make comfortable, though. Easier to just accept. Swallowing a sigh, she went to her room.</p><p>Theresa got herself in tight jeans and an old cartoon shirt. Making sure to at least put her strawberry blond hair in order before slipping in her old green converses. She liked to dress up from time to time, but anxiety made her stomach tight and she felt caged. That Westfield, Indiana was big comparing to Forks was a merit conquered only because Forks was ridiculous small. Westfield itself was small. But Forks? Absurd. She arrived on the city on the night before and she was already exhausted. Picking her freshest drawing notebook, she went to the driveway, where an old Ford waited for her. Mother’s gift.</p><p>With classic American houses, trees and a cloudy sky, Forks was promising. Maybe not of good things, but that was for her actions to decide. Driving without directions, she felt the knot in her chest easing. Ethan and Sofia were silent inside her head and, for once, she didn’t feel like calling them to the surface. Getting of road at a random stop, she chose to go on a short hike. It was not like she was afraid of getting lost, not with her companies watching her every turn.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>           </p><p>A few miles away, Alice Cullen felt herself being dragged to a vision. A confused one, with light red hair glimpsing away, Jaspers laughing with his head throw back and a small black bird being held by pale hands.</p><p>Blinking the haze away, she faced a choice as she always did. She could act, talk or even think deeply about it, and a delicate – uncertain, imprecise - prediction like that would fade away, turn to nothing. Or she could ignore, ignore and hope it would lead them to brighter days. She caught Jasper eyes and he opened his mouth to ask. She just raised her hand and he knew she wouldn’t discuss it. His golden eyes darkened, frustration and confusion brimming, though she knew the later was probably as reflex of her own feelings.</p><p>She heard him saying something about going to hunt and the vision got solid, with a dead crow being touched by soft fingers and the fuzzy shadow of a female human, breathless. Jasper staring at Alice with anger. She was brought back by the sound of his back resting against the doorway. She knew what he wanted, she knew that her permission after a vision was important to all of them, but vital for him.</p><p>With indifferent eyes, she picked her magazine and ignored him. Jasper was still for a few seconds before turning away. She closed her eyes when his scent faded. She could only bet and hope for the best. But Alice was a great gambler and even if her visions, sheds of what the future could be, were fragile, she would fight for the future she desired. Most of them were glimpses of faces, emotions and places without any order or time mark and she would have to fish between them for the ones more definitive and sometimes even knowing about it could cause some possibility to collapse.</p><p>She avoided altering trivial events and danced around the important ones. How could Alice be sure about all the consequences of each vision? How could she hold the present and future of all her family between her hands and not go insane? She couldn’t. So, Alice would bet her life and of the ones she loved while expecting it to end right. They were all lucky Alice Cullen was a master on the arts of parlay. She put her magazine down. Esme would be needing her soon.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Theresa walked until her feet hurt. The voices were silent inside of her mind, as they would usually do when she willed them to. She knew they weren’t ghosts or lost souls in the sense of the word. She knew that their conscience and small spark of life was hers given to them. She wouldn’t care, not having friends with real people, not letting nobody getting to close. But sometimes she felt lonely. However, when Theresa breathed life to the memory of death, their rose to her will, and so, she desired for them.</p><p><em>“You are not alone, dear, you never are.” </em>A cold hand on her shoulder and habit kept her from flinching away.</p><p><em>“Thanks for the creepy comment, old hag. What would we be without you?” </em>Ethan’s opinion made itself known and Theresa felt the corner of her lips curling up.</p><p>“<em>Not less insane, for sure.” </em>Words direct inside her mind to theirs, she felt both of them amused at her answer. Smiling to herself, she stared straight ahead and focused on her surroundings.</p><p>Faded screams, whispers and the wind, surrounding her, dancing and dancing until all was life and its remnants. Her breath was stolen from her and she let her familiar ghosts to fade. Near her, she felt it. Like a string, her feet were guided to the sharp pain. Grief, so strong. She could feel it, the musk of death. Between the trees she could see silhouettes of houses at distance and she wasn’t alone. One, two, three, four of them, answering to her call, feeling her string. She tasted the bitter on the first, the fear on the second before the innocence of the third punched her. She held on it and dismissed the others.</p><p>Memories, pain, love, echoes of life around those grieving and remembering, and all she need to do was to whisper life. Hers, but she had enough energy if she dissipated Ethan and Sofia more and more. Closing her eyes, she focused on that of confusion, of innocence. She let herself flow until something snapped and she knew someone else was there.</p><p>A girl, old enough to be on middle school but not past it. Maybe seven years old. She kept blinking with her yellow dress and messed hair. Lost.</p><p><em>“Where is mommy?” </em>Her voice, the chirp of a bird.</p><p>Theresa couldn’t speak, connect with the girl as she was. <em>I don’t know.</em></p><p><em>“I wanted to fly so I jumped, and I jumped”</em> imaginary tears filled her brown eyes <em>“and now I am here, I don’t want to, where is mommy and daddy, they told me no one knew how to fly, but I knew, I know.” </em></p><p>Guilt twisted Theresa heart so she called back some of the life she had given, the conscience slipping and the translucent form dissolving. The girl, Claire, Claire Newton, was too young. And she brought the child back to feel despair, as she kept her ghosts around for her pleasure, the egoistic creature she was. For a second self-loathing stole her breath. She would make it up for this one, she would.</p><p>Letting her body guide her again to where there was some whisper of death, but still tugging pieces of Claire with her, Theresa focused. Seeing only flashes of word while moving, she trusted herself to know where to stop. Harsh breathing, black spotting her vision, she blinked and realized she was on her knees cradling a dead crow. Body cold, but not stiff. She could make it work. She knew she could, she had already ventured with death animals.</p><p>The secret was to go slow. And then, maybe, just maybe, she would make up for causing pain in an already dead little girl. If she was lucky, she would be able to pacify her own conscience and leave the wood without a new ghost. She wasn’t sure if her sanity could survive the ghost of a child chasing her whenever she relaxed her control over her gift.</p><p>She sat on the ground, with legs bent towards her chest. Soft feathers under her fingertips, Theresa stared at the animal. She felt its body, lifeless as any object, the small bones loose and the black eyes greyed by death. Holding it with her left hand while cradling its head with the other, she bent and hovered her lips over the top of its head. Then, with grey eyes closed, she called Claire back, bit by bit, until she was on the brink on having a conscience again. Holding the energy connecting all the remains and memories and echoes of the child still, she focused on the bird. Dead, the cells, the blood, the life not even a memory. So, with her body tingling from the effort, she guided herself and Claire into the animal.</p><p>Her legs were shaking, and she couldn’t feel her arms, but she kept whispering life into the small body. She wasn’t sure if her eyes were open and blind or simply closed. Theresa was losing herself, but the bird started to move, small ticks on her palms, until she realized the heartbeat would be building up. Biting her lips hard enough to fill her mouth with cooper, Theresa guided parts and parts of Claire until the crow was alive with a kicking heart.</p><p>Blinking to disperse the darkness around her, she looked at the too smart eyes of the crow. It wasn’t Claire on the same way it wasn’t human, but the mind it had was hers, different conscience and with no pain or confusion, she would just fly and fly until death touched her again.</p><p>Opening her hands, she saw the crow raising flight and coming back right beside her. Theresa felt the life and conscience, so she smiled. She had done it. She felt herself floating and wings flapping, and a glimpse of a small girl with bloodied mouth on the floor. She saw the crow and she saw herself in his eyes. Her throat felt tight with emotion and she felt the air around her, making her free, <em>free</em>. A wet laugh was all she was capable of before passing out on the leaves and dirt.</p><p>          </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jasper watched the stag strolling through the high grass. Ears moving and hesitant steps. It knew something was watching. Jasper jumped to another tree, the sound of his feet a quiet <em>thump </em>on the branch. The animal’s head snapped at his direction, but it still wasn’t sure if it was a predator. Jasper prepared himself to attack.</p><p>Steps, far away, yes. But steps, and the stag sprinted away. Controlling his annoyance, he followed the prey as a blur. He would rather play a bit with his food as bad habits die hard, but he felt the hesitation about whatever Alice had seen rush him. Three seconds and he was upon the stag, teeth fighting against fur and clenching on the flesh. Hot blood spilled in his mouth and his venom held the animal still. Not good, but enough. For the moment, at least.</p><p>He cleaned his mouth on the back of his hand and got ready to get home, but a smell different from anything he ever felt hit him fully before overcoming his senses. He reigned control of his body when he was already close enough to hear the quick heartbeat. Human. He could picture the hot blood filling him, completely this time, and though he hadn’t slipped in some years, the Cullens would learn how to forgive him, Jasper was sure. He had already forgiven himself, actually. But he needed it, he needed it now. The crazed heartbeat called his name and thirst burned his throat even with his previous meal fresh inside him.</p><p>He ran through the trees, his thoughts simple and focused. He would feed. Delight himself on that blood, sweet and spicy and rich, oh so rich. Jasper could feel it on his tongue already. For the first time in decades he felt something closer to excitation flooding him. He was a hunter again.</p><p>He found his prey, a pretty girl alone in the middle of the woods. So easy it hurt. He slowed down, waking casually although still quiet, toward her. He would be careful, gentle and so slow he would be able to live it again and again before her body dried. He was close enough to see her better now. Head cast down; she was holding a dead crow. No heartbeat at all. He could feel her feverish focus, how her world was singled out on that bird and wasn’t it ironic he felt the same. At the moment, everything in Japer was centred on her. On hunting her.</p><p>He took one more step and her heart simply picked up, greys eyes staring blindly ahead as her breath grew irregular.</p><p>He saw the way she bit her lips, breaking the skin, and his eyes were attracted to her exposed neck. He could see the pulse. One more step. Then he felt it. When before he could feel how hot her blood was, now it was almost boiling. Her arms were shaking, but her hands were firm. The smell was intoxicating, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to wait more, he needed to taste her. </p><p>She was at arms lengths when the scent changed. Where it used to be heady and almost hypnotic at its high, it was weakening. Her eyes were rolling, and blood dripped from her nose.</p><p>During one second he thought he was going to attack, rip her throat, make her focus change to him, to his teeth, for the death he would be giving her. But he didn’t. Her scent had transformed so completely he could barely recognize her, and he felt some of the reason coming back to him. He was hunting a human. Jasper stared down at the sitting girl in front of him. She hadn’t seeing him, for whatever reason it was, he should count his blesses and leave while he still could.</p><p>Weakened or not, blood was blood, and he stepped away from her, half running and half waiting to a farther tree, just in time to see the girl’s focus turn to exaltation and the dead crow heartbeat spike. Like submerging inside an ocean, his self-control was taken away again and felt himself float with her, waves of pleasure tingling trough his body while satisfaction crawled over his mind. He tried to silence or calm her, but instead he felt himself drown deeper and deeper.</p><p>He could only see her, sweaty face tinged red with a pale mouth slightly open. He knew she could only see the crow – the one previously dead, but Jasper wasn’t in control of his wits to discuss it then – but his eyes were her, on her pulse, on her grey eyes with pupils blow so wide they seemed darker, as his would surely be at the moment. She laughed, raw and sweet spilling from her red mouth over the silence of the woods. He wasn’t able to catch his breath to follow her lead.</p><p>Somewhere in time, he felt her control over him slipping, his emotions coming down gently while her face paled. His legs would be shaken if he was human. But he still felt himself tremble, pleasure making its way in his veins in small spasms. Drugged, he had never and could never be under influence of drugs, but he was sure the feeling was similar.</p><p>He stopped her body from falling, bent in a low crouch with her head tipped towards him. Her long and pale neck stretched and reddish blond hair fanning her face.</p><p>Holding her in his arms, he couldn’t be sure how long her little stunt had taken, as his perception of the world and time had been deeply perturbed, but he knew her body was exhausted.</p><p>Looking at her face, so peaceful, he tried to understand what happened. And what he needed to do. Good news: he hadn’t devoured the human. Yet. But he wasn’t sure what to do with her. He couldn’t leave her on the dirt. Blood still fresh touched her lips.</p><p>Stretching his legs and sitting on the ground, he kept her body over his. Her faint scent made his throat scratch, but he found it bearable, to his own surprise.</p><p>Her moods had been so intense Jasper found himself sated. Sated and tired in a way he hadn’t felt since he was turned. Closing his eyes, he was reminded the time he spent in Maria’s arms. High on her feelings, high on her desires, high on her. It had been so intense it became his reason to live. Her wishes were his and her moral was his law. He had been needed and peaceful, for a time. Then his newborn years were gone, and he found himself alone and addicted to a cruel woman, capable of doing the most awful feats for her approval and for his own primal instincts.</p><p>It was similar to what he felt in those long seconds with the small human. Out of control, acting on a will stronger than his. Too consumed by her feelings to be overwhelmed by hunger and then too mesmerized with her to sink his teeth on that pretty neck of hers. Anger bloomed when he looked at her bloodied face and didn’t go feral. Sneering, he approached her peaceful face. Desiring to destroy, devour, tear her apart and to see her grey eyes darken in fear dominated him. A predator, and there she was sleeping in his arms. She moved a bit then, adjusting herself against him in an almost mocking fashion. He felt betrayed by the silence of the stirring beast inside him.</p><p>Blood painted her pale lips red and he felt himself touching her mouth with a cold finger, spreading the color over her hot skin before slipping the offending digit inside his own mouth. The rich flavour exploded on his tongue and bloodlust exploded in him. Tilting her head up, Jasper brushed his nose against the pulse under her jaw. With venom pooling around his teeth, he brushed his thumb against the plump lips one last time, tilting his head to reach her neck.</p><p>He froze when she moved under his touch and a flickering tongue touched him. Fire spreading under his marble like skin and he kept his thumb still against her mouth. The tingling lust made him snap back to the moment. She was an unconscious human and he hadn’t hurt her. Not yet, at least, and he was strong enough to keep it that way. Withdrawing from the pulse he was hovering, Jasper felt despair for the first time in many years. He needed to get away, to hunt, to see Alice. He needed to be in control.</p><p>Laying the frail body down with all the care he had manage to exercise, the vampire watched the shiny hair tangling with leaves and grass. With an elegant movement, he gave his back to her and walked toward the trees. Perhaps in an impulsive act, he synced himself with her peaceful slumber and sent her shocks of awareness.</p><p>Hiding in the forest he was motionless marble. Jaw locked and body tensed, he felt when she woke. Staring the browns and greens ahead, he could almost <em>see</em> her grey eyes blinking confusion away before getting up and leaving. Jasper followed close behind.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>       </p><p>Sitting on her bed and dressed in her best friend’s old shirt and a pajamas shorts, she held her notebook close to her chest before opening it on her last drawing and staring at one of the many faces eternised by her. One of the many ghosts she had brought life only to return to oblivion when it grew to much. Dirty blond hair, brownish eyes and face scrunched in confusion; Claire Newton looked back at Theresa. Picking her pencil again, she wrote the small girl’s name with careful letters, adding the number right under it. The current year, the birthday and death. 200619911998. She didn’t know the girl’s favorite toy had been a battered stuffed giraffe named Lily, she knew the favorite colour was yellow and how much she had loved strawberry ice cream. She knew the girl hadn’t suffer and wasn’t she lucky for that? Both Claire and Theresa, as she had information, memories and knowledge of the ghosts she breathed in.</p><p>Putting a loose lock of her wet hair behind her ear, she yawned. The whole experience had been exhausting to her, maybe because she wasn’t familiar with Claire or any of her family. Theresa had once whispered life and Ethan’s conscience into a small bird as a request from the boy in a boring afternoon. It had been easier and far more natural when it was him, and although it had left her drained, she hadn’t passed out. She would discuss it with the boy next day, when she was well rested and sure enough calling him wouldn’t sent her spiraling to the floor. Again.</p><p>She scratched her forehead before putting her art supplies away. Theresa was, curse or bless aside, different. There was no manual to deal with it, however. She was careful when testing, but she couldn’t be sure what she was and wasn’t able to do until she tried. A voice, distant and cold, sounding too much like Sofia for comfort, warned her to remember the costs. She was no goddess. The life she gave the crow was hers, the vital energy that united the echoes of conscience in a ghost was hers, and as her body was very much human, the price was simple. For their company, their touch, their memories, she gave slices of her own life away. A chill made its way under her skin. For a moment, she wasn’t able to deal with the burden. Theresa needed comfort, needed them.</p><p>Unable to resist, she closed her eyes and felt her body grow weak under the covers. It was the afternoon and she wouldn’t be able to get up, but she felt the annoyed buzz of Sofia’s conscience bouncing around and the whisper of Ethan’s voice again. She felt tired, dazed and sick, but she wasn’t alone. She would never be. Her world went black before she closed her eyes and Theresa dreamed of the dark forest under the wings of a crow.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No idea of how many chapters this story will have, but I guess it will be fairly long as the outline I have traced includes but doesn't stop at Breaking Down. Hope you liked! I know I would love if you commented ahahah. But no pressure, I swear. See you next week (Saturday is a good day to update? I may change for Wednesday or Tuesday, not sure yet, but updates are going to be weekly). Anyway, I have social anxiety and I am already dying just of writing this note, so thank you for reading and be safe!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Petty reasons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theresa goes to Forks High school and fails almost every conversation she takes part in.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Things may be a bit confusing right now, but soon everything will be explained. Italic inside quotes are the ghosts talking or Theresa speaking with them inside her mind.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She searched for her classroom in the empty halls of Forks high school. Theresa had arrived late and gone to the administrative office to get her schedule. A smiling woman helped her out, although she did some uncomfortable staring. With her paper guide in hands, Theresa wondered around the place until was time to enter the second class. English. She looked down once again before memorizing what she could and slipping it inside her bag.</p><p>Theresa was no antisocial, but she would rather meet her peers on her time and terms than to be grabbed and showed around. Stealing a glimpse to the side she saw Ethan’s dark hair and heavy-lidded eyes watching her. He almost looked alive. Sofia’s annoyance at not being allowed to roam around more freely was bordering her mind, but Theresa’s limits had been too strained on the day before and she felt better with the old woman’s wit accompanying her.</p><p>“<em>Sorry, Sofia. I just want Ethan to explore so we can slip later with less effort.” </em>She felt a huff echoing inside her brain. “<em>And you know as well as anyone how I feel safer with your tongue-lashing skills being near.” </em></p><p>“<em>I doubt we will have any problem in a school of, what, two hundred students?” </em>The forever nineteen years old boy was dressed in jeans and rock band shirt as always. She had given him a fair amount of her energy, though, so he looked as solid as one can be.</p><p>“<em>You do have a mission to keep you busy, don’t ya?” </em>Sofia rasped.</p><p>Ignoring their bickering Theresa went straight to the already starting English class. Mumbling some excuse while greeting the teacher, she was directed to an empty chair at the end of the classroom. Her table partner was a pretty blond with a somewhat annoying voice. Lauren had a strained smile, but she didn’t ramble or tried to make conversation, so Theresa hadn’t much to complain about.</p><p>Lauren’s usual partner, a boy named Tyler, was absent. Sick or hungover, Theresa wasn’t really paying attention. The girl shared other classes with her, and they later walked together to a table in the cafeteria.</p><p>“So, guys, this is Theresa Garnier. Theresa, those are Angela, Jessica, Mike and Eric.” She sat between Angela and Mike, while Lauren was next to Jessica and Eric.</p><p>“<em>Do they expect you to remember the names and faces?”</em></p><p>“<em>I hope they don’t, but I do hope you remember, Sofia. Perfect memory and all, I think we are good.” </em>While opinions and personality wise static, the ghosts had a terrific memory and Theresa sometimes fished information she didn’t know in them.</p><p>They asked her basic questions about from where she was to her favorite classes. Soon they were sharing gossip over some Bella girl, to Angela, a dark haired with sweet smile, dismay. Feeling bored and a bit annoyed by both the attention and the subjects of the conversation, she took her regular drawing notebook out of her pack and started sketching a familiar face. Strong jaw, wild jet-black locks and small eyes, her pencil knew the lines before tracing them.</p><p>“<em>I told Ethan you are obsessed with him.” </em>Sofia should have been tired of listening to the girls talking. However, for Theresa that was an even more tedious topic.</p><p>“<em>And what he told you?” </em>Theresa thought without bothering in paying attention to either the living or the dead. The ability of connecting her mind with theirs to share glimpses of thought was a hard one that she mastered after a childhood of talking aloud to them and gaining weird looks from others. It wasn’t as natural as just speaking like she usually did when alone, but it wasn’t a discomfort either.</p><p>“<em>That I am nosy.”</em></p><p><em>“Blessed be his wisdom.” </em>Theresa heard Sofia snort in her mind.</p><p><em>“You should be talking with people your age instead of pinning for long dead boys and bickering with an even more dead lady.”</em> Facts were definitive and she knew she should create connections with her peers. But there was also so much she should do.</p><p>
  <em>“Lady?”</em>
</p><p><em>“Screw you, Theresa.” </em>The girl fought her urge to laugh. “<em>They are trying to speak with you by the way. Good luck.”</em></p><p>Theresa’s head snapped up and she cursed the crazy granny for not giving her pointers of whatever was being discussed.</p><p>“You are very talented. Are you coping it from somewhere?” The one called Angela was kind enough to repeat what she had asked.</p><p>“No, I just it started now.” At the question in her eyes, Theresa explained. “Is a friend of mine.”</p><p>“He seems cute.” Lauren long tanned finger tilted the notebook down, exposing the content to the rest of the table.</p><p>“Is he your boyfriend or something?” Mike wiggled his eyebrows in a tactless if playful manner.</p><p>“Nah. He was my best friend.”</p><p>“Was?” “<em>Brainless bimbo number two asks.” </em>Sofia acid thought echoed. Theresa just quirked a half smile and looked at the other girl. That one was Jessica, she was sure. Curiosity was something she could understand, so she reigned any aggressive remark. “He died some years ago.”  </p><p>The silence fell over the table and Theresa just took a bite of her apple. They did ask. Her eyes wondered around until she saw a group of stunning people walking toward an empty table. Stunning wasn’t the word, though. “<em>Inhumanly beautiful, you mean.” </em>She was glad for Ethan’s presence beside her.</p><p>“<em>Can you get closer to them?” </em>He nodded and strolled to the table without hesitation. She could force a bit more of energy in him to be able to hear what he heard, but she didn’t feel like exhausting herself more.</p><p>Two women and three men. One girl was tall, blonde and flawless. From the catlike walk to her glossy hair, she was what Theresa pictured as a goddess. The other one was short, with stylish dark hair and a cute outfit. The largest male had his arm around the blond. Dark hair and pale skin, similar to the former girl. The other two were similar build, one of them being shorter and with copper messed hair while the other was leaner, taller and had blond curls. She forced her eyes down even though she wanted to look at them for hours, to study their marble like bodies and feline grace, analyse each piece of flesh until she could find something human, something right. Because even thought they were fascinating, there was still something off about them.</p><p>She knew, just like she knew about the lives and experiences of her ghosts, as they were integrated in her own knowledge and truths were whispered in her ear, she just knew they weren’t human. So, Theresa forced herself to open her sketchbook even if it was only to play with lines and random traces. “<em>Do you think is safe for Ethan to get that close to them?”</em></p><p><em>“They can’t make us anymore dead then we already are, sunshine.” </em>Sofia wasn’t worried, but she rarely was. Her emotional range was between rage, amusement and scorn. Theresa liked the ghost anyway.</p><p><em>“What if they notice him?” </em>Her question was met with silence. Keeping her eyes on the blank page, she started an impulsive doodle.</p><p>
  <em>“They want to talk with you. Again. Why they still insist is beyond me, though.” </em>
</p><p>Theresa raised her eyes to five confused faces.</p><p>“So?” Pretty but human Lauren asked.</p><p>“So?” Theresa blinked back.</p><p>“What do you think of them? The Cullen family” Jessica gesticulated with wide eyes “gorgeous, haughty and weird?” Theresa’s mouth made a small O of comprehension though she felt this was somewhat a test and she was failing miserably.</p><p>“Finally! Finally, a pair of eyes not stolen by the pretty looks and sketchy reputations of the Cullens.” Mike had thrown his arms in the air with dramatic flair, making them all laugh.</p><p>“Oh, no, no. They are gorgeous.” She shook her head, still smiling from the wounded look he shot her. “They are just, uh, not my type.”</p><p>“You are not losing anything. The blond one, Rosalie, dates her brother, Emmet, and so do Jasper, the one who seems to be in pain, and the short one, Alice. She’s a bit of freak, so I would keep distance if I were you. Edward, the single one, is extremely arrogant and now is killing his time with the not-so-new-anymore girl, but believe me, he is a jerk. Incest in brandy clothes, if one would ask me.” Lauren face was contorted in a sneer. Theresa felt the tentation of drawing it, how it twisted the lines of her mouth and changed the shape of her chin.</p><p>“They are not really related, though, they are all adopted by Dr Cullen, but Jasper and Rosalie are twins, I think. And are you sure about Alice and Jasper? They don’t seem as <em>physical</em> as Rosalie and Emmet.” Angela said.</p><p>“Yes, I saw them kissing a few weeks ago. They all still live like siblings under the same roof. Do you think Dr Cullen let them share rooms or even the bed? Because coming out as dating adoptive siblings is already weird enough. Pretty sure is illegal in some places.” Jessica’s blue eyes shined with mirth, pleased beyond measure by the opportunity of bad mouthing the family. “I heard his wife can’t have children. She must be very despaired to accept their antics.”</p><p>“How many habitants there are in Forks? Three, four thousand? You all must be related in some way too. Incest in not so brandy clothes, though.” It was Theresa’s absented minded answer. She wasn’t interested in discussing the Cullen with who was stuck by their superficial image and beauty. She found them uncomfortable because they weren’t humans. But their sex or familiar life? She couldn’t care less.</p><p>“I am so not! My parents aren’t even from here!” Mike said forcing a smile. She had offended their town, hadn’t she? Fair enough. Theresa wasn’t bothered by the defensive edge in his voice and was ready to let the incident go, but on a second glance, she was struck by his face.</p><p>Mike had blond hair and warm eyes, but what got her attention wasn’t his boyish smile or friendly demeanour. It was the ghost around him, the grief hanging over his lashes and the familiar innocence the echo brough. Mike Newton was Claire’s brother. She fought her instinct of calling whatever left of the ghost back, to compare their faces and the shared roundness and kind, oh so kind eyes. She wanted to scrutinize him and his pain and his dead sister.</p><p><em>“Pretty girl there is getting mad at you.” </em>Theresa shot a look at the said girl who had burning red cheeks and faced marred in a deep scowl. “<em>Offending Forks, dismissing her opinion or staring at the golden boy? Not sure, but don’t stop at my account. Actually, please, continue. I would love to tear this air headed girl down. So high and mighty for one who lives in an insignificant place.”</em></p><p>Theresa felt Sofia’s irritation blending into her own. Lauren was staring at her as if she was nothing but dirt. High School queens with their blown-up self-importance had always annoyed her. She knew life had a special way of bringing them to their knees. To show them their true value as any fellow mortal; none.</p><p>“So, if the incest isn’t appalling, what in them is not good enough for you, Theresa?” Her pitched voice made her already tender head hurt. The challenge stilled the talk around them. She doubted her answer of “too beautiful” would be enough.</p><p>She looked at the mentioned table. Five pairs of eyes seemed to be focused on her. She allowed her attention to dance between each one of them; the blond who she would be willing to bet was another High School “queen”, Rosalie, the copper haired, Edward, who stared back angrily, the pixie with elbows on the table and hands supporting her tilted head, Alice, and the bigger boy who was fighting a smile, Emmet. She felt a bit unnerved watching them while they watched her, but Sofia whisper of “<em>coward”</em> forced her to keep her lazy appraisal.</p><p>The last one, Jasper, had his dark eyes trained on her as one would stare at an animal, waiting for the trick, for the growl. Waiting and waiting on her. Looking straight at his eyes first, she then wandered over his lean form, crossed calves, long legs, broad shoulders and blond locks. Losing herself on his sharp jaw and high cheekbones for a moment, she was brough back by the cocky curve of his mouth. Oh, he was looker, for sure. At least she knew she was still too weak from the past day to give him the satisfaction of a blush.</p><p>Reckless or not, she was still annoyed with Lauren. But even if she wasn’t, her answer would be similar. Staring blank faced at the blond girl, she answered with a soft tilt of head.</p><p>“They are way too dead for my taste.” The table exploded in laugher, but she kept Lauren’s stare with a smile. The secret of her words was that they were closer to the truth than to a figurative expression and wasn’t that amusing?</p><p>In a low voice, Lauren smiled, and cruelty gleamed on the edges “Or they are not dead enough. You like’em already in coffins, right?” she pointed a pink nail toward the sketchbook.</p><p>Theresa felt when Sofia stopped her mumbling and the world went silent. There was laugh around them, but she could only see Lauren, pretty Lauren with her almost white hair and green eyes. Voices growled inside her mind, all of them unfamiliar and angry and sad. She felt herself pick one. One that felt so similar to Lauren. One that Lauren carried with her.  </p><p>With a small intake of air, Theresa felt the voice, felt the name, the taste. So, so angry. A face in her mind and she felt a shiver run through her body as her life ran to the ghost and to Lauren. The ones who carried the echoes were always the most sensitive for its presence.</p><p><em>“Lauren? You lying bitch. You thought I wouldn’t come back for you?” </em>With widened eyes, slack jaw and trembling hands, Lauren looked around her, searching for the voice. Searching for Steve, her dead grandfather. <em>“I am going to teach you a lesson, whore, and this time you are going to learn.”</em></p><p>Theresa kept her stare until Lauren turned back to her, panic written over her face. For the few seconds she was able to stare at the cold grey eyes, Lauren echoed horror. They both knew who was appreciating the panic without questioning why. Oh, Theresa knew why, and so did Lauren. It was all it took for the platinum blond to stand up, mumble some feeble excuse and run from the cafeteria.</p><p>Her peers stared at the departing form of a broken little queen with confusion. Seconds were all Theresa needed. She breathed again, focusing on the hateful voice, on the disgusting ghost she created. With a soft huff she crushed the connection, smashing what slices of her had been holding the grandfather. Pain exploded behind her eyelids and she felt her world darken. She had been too abrupt when severing the connection. She had been too cruel. With a severe headache, she had trouble blocking the voice of unnamed echoes in the cafeteria. Her control was slipping.</p><p>A cold hand on her shoulder, Ethan was back. She allowed his mind sync with hers and calm flooded her system. She would need to deal with what happened and with what she done, but not now.</p><p>“Are you ok? You look a bit pale.” Eric’s voice brough her attention back.</p><p>“Yes, I have low blood pressure so sometimes I just get a bit weak.” Awkward words tumbled out of her mouth, and she felt herself freezing. She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t look at them, not after what happened. Death, energy and life were running on her system and her throat was tight. She felt Ethan’s connection to her being pulled and he slipped inside of her mind, grounding her.</p><p>Sofia took the offered chance to slip away and explore the cafeteria. Theresa couldn’t find energy enough to offer any resistance. She looked at the other teens and Mike was watching her with a warm smile. She felt Ethan take control and smile back. That was all it took for the table to gain life again.</p><p>“So, Theresa, what is alive enough for you?” His golden hair and cheeks tinted red; Mike reminded her of a child. A weird child trying to flirt. Not her problem, though. “<em>Good luck, Ethan.”</em></p><p>Her body arched forward as she rose an eyebrow. “So, you didn’t understand what I meant at all, but you still laughed, didn’t you?” she felt herself tilting her head back and giggling, only to look at an even more embarrassed Mike and wink. “Let me explain to you.”</p><p><em>“Ethan. Ethan. Ethan. You are <strong>not</strong> flirting right now.” </em>She would kill him. Bring him back and then kill him again.</p><p><em>“You said it was my problem, uh? I will do what I always did.” </em>Cheeky bastard.</p><p><em>“Charm your way out of trouble? With my body?” </em>Ethan laugh was full of mischief.</p><p>“Look at the Cullens, Mike. They don’t talk, they don’t laugh, they don’t eat. See the look at the face of the pretty one, Rosalie? And Edward, too. Even the Jasper one. More than half of the table needs to learn some anger management.” And right Ethan was. The whole family was staring at Theresa and even hiding in her head she felt herself wanting to cower more or to take a more aggressive instance. Ethan’s disdain was too cold, too indifferent where she rather aiming to openly offend or simply dismiss. While Edward scowl had deepened, Rosalie’s face darkened and even the two brunettes were tense. Jasper’s hands were tight fists and his jaw was painfully locked.</p><p>“They don’t get messy, or silly.” Her finger pointed his reddened face. “Or dirty.” She bent toward him with a napkin. With a soft touch of her fingers on his jaw she stilled his face while the other cleaned some mustard of his chin. His mouth was open and blood rushed into his cheeks.</p><p>She smiled at him once more before turning to talk with Angela. The girl liked to paint, so they discussed technics and brushes. Soft and easy going, she liked her even more. Ethan gave the control back one step at a time and when the alarm ringed and called them back to the classes, she felt calm and centered.</p><p>They got up and Mike offered himself to accompany her to the classes they shared. Torn between picking her car and leaving school for the day or walking to classes as if she wasn’t overwhelmed, she decided to stay. If someone called her mother to say she was skipping classes, the day would get even heavier. And Mike wasn’t bad company. When she was walking with him toward the hall, her gaze made its way into Jasper’s. He stood alone and still in the middle of moving students, staring at her.</p><p>She had never met the man before, but the hate, revulsion and contempt in his eyes seemed to be the type built by years of spite. She scrunched her face in confusion and the moment was gone. The he was nowhere to be seen.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>With her head under a pillow, she replayed the events of the day.</p><p><em>“You know I am right.” </em>Sofia pipped in.</p><p>Theresa sat upright and stared the short woman down. She had enough with the ghost. “It’s your fault too. Your annoyance, your anger, your damn temper pushed me even further away.” Her tone bitter, she then turned to Ethan who paced in the room. “Could you please stop? And I didn’t forget your little stunt with Mike, either. If he tries to kiss me, I swear I will switch with you.”</p><p><em>“Are you done with the snapping or still want to cover your mistakes by pretending they are ours?” </em>Although not unkind, his sarcastic words hurt her. Stilling in front of her with lips lifted in a sad, twisted way, Ethan was worried.</p><p><em>“I see no mistake. You shut her up. Your regret is not because of the panicked little miss, but because you think of yourself as above using your curse for petty reasons. Selfish till the end, sunshine.” </em>Sofia had no disapproval but also offered no comfort.</p><p>Fighting her urge to hide herself again Theresa just scolded and ignored Sofia’s words. They hit too close for comfort. She hadn’t felt a drop of pity or regret of tormenting Lauren with a monster of the past, worrying herself more about the liberal use of her abilities against an annoying school mate. The use of her gift had a cost and she should avoid using with pathetic, meaningless girls. She cringed over her own thoughts.</p><p><em>“I think what you really should concern yourself about is why you have more empathy for the dead than for the living.” </em>Ethan stared past her. She felt a pang in her chest. His disappointment tasted bitter after all she had done for him and all he had tried to do for her. Anger and sadness walked together when he upset her. His death was her mistake, yes, but so it was his own wish. He had lost his moral ground to judge her long ago.</p><p>“You are wrong. I don’t see the dead as more worthy than the living. You all have the same value, and what they are now will be what you were before I reached you; nothing. The dead aren’t more important, Ethan. They are equally insignificant.” She stared at his back. “But <strong>you</strong> are more important to me than them because I deemed it so.”</p><p><em>“Sometimes is like I don’t even know you anymore, girl.” </em>Voice rough, she could see the illusion of muscle and lines of tension of his shoulders. But they weren’t alive, not really, and their opinion and personality were unmovable. Death was eternity and it took away everything that once earned for more. Discussions were useless.</p><p><em>“If I were to guess, I would say the problem is the other undead walking through your school. But who am I to know? A philosophical discussion about our existence or the misuse of your curse can be very helpful.” </em>Sofia sneered. “<em>We could take turns to say what torments each of our poor hearts.” </em></p><p>“My heart is in peace, thank you very much.” Theresa said.</p><p><em>“Is it now?” </em>He turned to look at her, a mocking smile hanging on his lips.</p><p>“What is done is done. I won’t punish myself for acting according my own nature.” Her nature; unbalancing the order.</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, is now my turn to share them? You don’t need to punish yourself, Sunshine, your little zombies are planning to do it for you.”</em>
</p><p><em>“What?”</em> Both Theresa’s and Ethan’s voices tumbled together as they turned a sharp look at the old woman leaning on the wall.</p><p>
  <em>“The stunning one, Rosalie, said something similar to “We need to kill her” and her boyfriend stared at you. They were all taking in hushed tones, so I wasn’t able to understand much.”</em>
</p><p>“And you assume they were talking about me?”</p><p><em>“Better safe than sorry.” </em>Sofia shrugged.</p><p><em>“We may not be able to know if they were talking about you or not as we are not sure of their, uh, capacities. But I think is safe to say they are bad news.” </em>Ethan said.</p><p><em>“They are old, too</em>.” The old woman mumbled; head tilted down. Theresa had never seen her act so coy. “<em>Rosalie sat and talked just like a fucking lady, from the crossed legs to the poised hands. No, Ethan, your poor generation wouldn’t be able to play the cold too-important-for-this air of hers without turning into a show of arrogancy. She is elegant, but all of them are. Rosalie, though, behaves the way my thanks to God dead mother tried to make me to.”</em></p><p><em>“So, she remembers you of dear old mommy, yes?” </em>Ethan taunted her without hesitation. Theresa cringed. It was so uncommon of her ghost to talk about her past.</p><p><em>“She was raised to be a pretty housewife and her body language is similar to the ones of the women in the 40s.”</em>Sofia was unbothered.</p><p><em>“Sometimes I forget how old you are” </em>He shook his head<em>. “When I was near them, I wasn’t able to hear much. Sometimes they seemed to be talking but were mostly random phrases while they stared each other. The blond guy was pretty tense though. Seemed to be a few seconds from snapping and attacking someone.”</em></p><p>They accepted her lack of comment as the end of the conversation. She was tired and overwhelmed. While she did not regret what she done, she still felt petty. But Ethan had always been where her self-control and grief were more strained, and Lauren had been malicious to the only part of her that was actually vulnerable.</p><p>Still on the bed she worked on some of her many assignments before picking her cell phone up. She had promised to call to her aunt and Theresa knew how Sylvia could work herself into a frenzy with starved of information for too long. The woman’s over excited voice greeted her and made her laugh. They talked for a bit before hanging up.</p><p>Theresa’s family was small. Anne had got pregnant with her when she was eighteen, and while it was never spoken aloud, she knew abortion had been an option only excluded because of her grandmother’s insistence. She had raised the baby with her aunt while her mother went to college. As it would be cruel to simply take Theresa away from the family she knew – and as she had been a very hard child to deal with – they decided she would keep living in Indiana while her mother settled in Washington.</p><p>However, that was a simplification of a story where her grandmother had passed away in her early years and her aunt was left to deal with a kid who enjoyed the company of ghosts over her peers. She wasn’t sure how much her mother would be able to understand, or even if she was willing to try. Anne had almost no maternal instinct and Theresa didn’t need a mother either. Her aunt Sylvia had been more of guidance, a company, than a parent. She had her ghosts, and nothing would be able to take them from her.</p><p>Theresa went to the oven and started to cook. She would need to face her mother and wasn’t it either with a plate of food between them? She hoped so. Pan with boiling water and past cooking while she fried onions and the minced meat. Adding the sauce, putting some spices, she prepared pasta with Bolognese sauce. Setting the table and watching the pans were manual activities that left her mind free to wander. Having her ghosts quiet for some hours was refreshing. Sometimes lines needed to be traced when Theresa’s identity and moods started to blur with theirs.</p><p>Mixing the pasta and the sauce she put the bowl on the table and sat on the couch with her sketchbook. Letting her mind fly while her pencil traced the lines of a new ghost. She thought about Lauren, and the Cullens. She had been reckless and there could be consequences. With chin lifted, she would face them. Drop dead gorgeous, yes, unnatural so, also yes. She remembered how she had stared at each of them, taking her time to learn the curves and dips of each body, searching on each perfect face. They had stared her back, knowing of her analyse, but no, that hadn’t stopped her.</p><p>She felt her cheeks heating over the memory of Jasper. She had absorbed each line and rough edges of his while he looked at her with those dark eyes. Different than the others, his stare was heavy of interest and anticipation and her stomach curled at the idea of him. The hateful gleam he had when looking at her later, though, was what intrigued her even more. She was curious about him, about what he wanted from her when <em>allowing</em> Theresa to read him from afar.</p><p>She was fascinated with the idea he would be curious over her only to be mutually repulsed to the extreme of anger to take over him. It was so emotional, so strong, that she found herself hooked on the memory.</p><p>Replaying it over and over her mind, she couldn’t avoid feeling powerful. She had been the target of his muddy attention while taking a look at him and then his emotions had shifted to a so deep rage, and she felt larger than her body for being able to cause it, to be the aim of his spite. It was so full of life, so different from herself.</p><p>Finishing her drawing of an old man with a double chin, thin white hair and deep eyes, she wrote his name, Steve, and his number at the corner of the page before switching to her second sketchbook, the one for the living – and for her favorite ghosts, of course – and spilling her memory of him, of Jasper, casually sat on the cafeteria with <em>that</em> look on his face, the one she wasn’t able to name.</p><p>If she had to bet on it, she would say his pitch black eyes were filled with promises. With a small snort, she lost herself on the dark lines and sharp edges of Jasper Cullen.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p> I couldn't wait a full week to update, so here we go. The next chapter will include a little chat with one of the Cullens. Hope you enjoyed and see you next week (or earlier, as my anxious ass can't wait). Hope you enjoyed reading it! .</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Twin scars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A conversation at the courtyard and a glimpse of Theresa's past.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TRIGGER WARNING: depression, suicide attempt and suicide.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With the dark wooden table between them, Theresa looked at her mother. The same strawberry blond of her own hair, not light enough to be yellowish and not red enough to be red. Beside the hair, they also shared the same small but filled mouth and heavy-lidded grey eyes. Anne’s face was thinner with her high cheekbones and straight roman nose though, while her daughter had round face and softer features. Still, Theresa sat taller with her 5 feet 9.</p><p>Her mother was a striking woman, if a bit intimidating. There had never been a mention of a father, but Theresa liked to play with the idea she would be similar to him. Tall, taller than her and her mother, but goofy like they weren’t. His eyes would be a warm brown and he would smile a lot, with dimples and big cheeks. She sipped the orange juice in her glass.</p><p>Both of them ate their share of the meal in silence. Anne would open and close her mouth sometimes, trying to grasp words to fill the space between them. Theresa waited with an annoying buzz under her skin telling her she should make the first move. She didn’t.</p><p>“Are you enjoying Forks?” Anne cleaned her throat. “It’s a small town and it can get boring pretty fast, but there is another one called Port Angeles with more options for entertainment close here.”</p><p>“I don’t mind. I really enjoy the weather and the students were nice enough.” She forced herself into looking at her mother’s eyes. They were so similar to her own it was daunting.</p><p>“I know the people here aren’t nice. I worked three years straight at the hospital before actually being able to make friends. But I promise you it gets better.”</p><p>Discomfort rouse inside her. Anne was trying to reassure her. It somehow felt strange, as if she was a lost little girl her mother was talking down to. Theresa didn’t need the offered comfort. She hadn’t before and she didn’t now. Playing with her silverware, she bowed her head in agreement. Anne was trying, it may not please Theresa, but she was. She wasn’t to fault for her daughter’s freakish abilities.</p><p>“Did you talk with your aunt? I imagine she should be worried.” She nodded and the woman sipped the juice before turning her attention back to Theresa. “Sylvia is very protective of you. I won’t pretend to know what may have happened to you, because I don’t. But you are my daughter and if you ever need anything, you can talk to me.”</p><p>Aunt Sylvia was aware of Theresa’s abnormalities more than any other living person. Her grandmother was gifted too and while she never detailed it to her daughters, she recognised Theresa’s withdrawal behaviour and long conversations with the nothing as what they were. Dying early, Sylvia was left alone with a girl who played with dead people.</p><p>Sometimes Theresa wanted to bring her grandmother back, look on information and knowledge about their connection with the dead, but she remembered even in a young age of making her a promise to never do it. At the time, she didn’t understand the reasoning behind her grandmother’s despair in getting her into aggreging. Nowadays she was sure she would rather die again and again than be brought back as a living echo.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The next day disappeared under her steps and she found herself with drawings of some of the Cullen and no annotation of any of the classes. She shared one, the biology class, with Edward. Luckily, Lauren had missed the day, so she was able to sit with Jessica and avoid the sneering boy. A brunette girl sat beside him. The not-so-new-girl-anymore as she had been told, she supposed.</p><p>Lauren was said to be sick and Theresa was able to keep light conversations during the day. She was ready to call it a day and have a rest in the frozen courtyard far from her colleagues when she felt a cold hand almost covering her shoulder. She knew it wasn’t her ghosts, as Sofia was tailing the Cullen and Ethan was keeping for himself.</p><p>She didn’t jump or flinched either. She had had to retrain her reflexes to avoid weirding people out as her body reacted to ghost touches. Theresa just tilted her head to the side to see two bright golden eyes staring straight at her. Short black hair, huge and maybe body builder, Emmet Cullen smiled at her.</p><p><em>“Look at his other hand and his neck. He’s tensed up. We need to leave now.” </em>Ethan voice made her feel safer and although she wasn’t outright scared, the tight muscles of the huge man weren’t good news. She swallowed once before splattering a lazy smile on her face.</p><p>“Can I help you with anything?” She continued walking away from the cafeteria, ignoring the weight of his hand on her. She was sure he would be able to smash her on the floor with just a bit of pressure. She needed to go back where there were people, witnesses.</p><p>“My name’s Emmet Cullen, uh, just want to welcome you to the Fork’s High School.” His smile was somewhat brighter while a hand scratched his neck sheepishly. She told him her name. “Actually, me and my family moved here just two years ago. I was going to thank you for taking our title from us.”</p><p>“Your title?” <em>“They are watching you, don’t lower your guard.” </em>Ethan could take care of the surroundings while she talked to the bear man. She saw the Cullen family near the cafeteria door with a very curious Sofia hovering them.</p><p>“Y’know, the new kids.” He laughed as if he had told something similar to a joke. Theresa felt herself grow impatient. “Maybe they will stop staring at us now, although that may be too good to ever be true. They didn’t when Bella moved in January.”</p><p>“I can’t say I blame them. You all seem intimidating.” Why was he talking to her? Maybe they felt she wasn’t normal? Or they saw what she had done to Lauren? She wanted to ask him what he wanted to know and be done with it.</p><p>“You don’t see intimidate, though.” Emmet smirked, lowering his head to peek at her eyes. “You should be careful, though, that Lauren girl seemed to find you really scaring yesterday. A little more and you are going to be another outcast.”</p><p>Trying to keep herself from reacting aggressively, she pulled her bonds and tried to put Ethan on control, but the ghost wouldn’t bulge. Letting a breathy laugh, she knew she would kill him later. He had a way with words to keep any conflict from escalating, while Theresa was known for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time without even realizing. However, they both shared a dismissive and somewhat disrespectful tone even if Ethan was usually colder when she relied on being uninterested. It was similar enough to not raise many flags if she allowed him to take control of her body. Sofia, though, was meaner and more aggressive than Theresa, making it too dangerous to switch places.</p><p>“She was feeling sick, I think.” She stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Don’t worry, Emmet, I can swear I am harmless.” Could he do the same?</p><p>“Maybe it’s your eyes, Theresa, they look cold. A hunter’s eyes. Scared your poor classmate away.” He winked at her; any pretense of smile gone. She felt her head starting to hurt. Why was he still there bothering her? Was that a joke or a threat? She walked towards a bench. He knew something about what she did to Lauren. Or at the very minimum he was suspicious.</p><p><em>“He’s trying to get a rise of you, control yourself now.” </em>Ethan voice was desperate, but he made no move to take control, so she gave him no sign she heard. Emmet’s touch was still on her shoulder. Was it to keep her from running?</p><p>“Oh, Emmet, shouldn’t you be wearing a glove? It’s almost as if you have no body heat Is it a medical condition? I don’t know anything that would make someone this cold, if I am being honest.” She pulled her own personification of Sofia and stared at him from the corner of her eyes with a mocking smile. “Maybe death.” The words escaped her lips in less than a whisper before she was able to control herself. Somewhat he was able to hear, if the tenseness around his eyes was a clue. “Besides, if your classmates got used to you and all your adopted siblings sharing the same so discrete shade of gold on your eyes, I am confident they will get used to mine plain gray.”</p><p><em>“His family looks ready to kill you. You need to leave, now. Right at this moment, Theresa. Leave.” </em>At Ethan’s voice, she looked to the Cullens only to find four pair of dark eyes staring at her with more loathing she thought someone was able to urge. Maybe Sofia could. She felt even more reckless.</p><p>“You should leave, though. Your lovely family seems a few steps away from bursting into flames or ripping my throat.” Laughter bubbled out of her mouth. What could they do? Kill her in the middle of the school? Oh, she couldn’t pretend she really cared. Tapping his shoulder in a dismissive way, she plopped on the bench and took a sandwich from her bag. Ethan desperate voice was turned into murmurs at her will. It was a wonderful thing to be able to control their volume. No ranting distracting her from behaving on impulses and childish urges.</p><p>“They are furious.” He towered over her and his lips curled up, showing rows of white teeth. “Someone said you told them we are, uh, too dead.” Theresa knew at that moment this was his big enquiry. Feeling a tad disappointed, she sighed. School gossip it was. She had told him some more offending comments and alluding remarks just at this conversation. Oh, Ethan was so going to kill her. She had offered to switch places, though, the ghost was to fault. Maybe she shouldn’t have muted his voice, but he could have been way more diplomatic while getting information instead of letting her make her way out of it by throwing provocations like she did.</p><p>“She said, he said, is it? You have the perfect high school spirit, Emmet, I really wasn’t expecting.” She tilted her face to stare at him. Neck bared and arrogant smile in place, she turned her head to look at the other fuming Cullens across the courtyard. Eyes slow, she drank their blank expressions and tense bodies. Jasper could wear leather as no one else, she was sure of it. “I wasn’t aware my romantic preferences were subject of discussion at your house, no. But if it pleases you, I can assure you all are very attractive.”</p><p>Emmet seem torn between rage and embarrassment. “I wasn’t… fishing for compliments.”</p><p>“That’s great, we wouldn’t want things to be awkward, would we?” She smiled her brightest smile, taking a bite of her lunch. “You seem to be a nice guy, Emmet, don’t misunderstand me, please. I guess you all are just… too old for my taste.”                    </p><p>She took another bite and opened a book on her legs. She would turn pages from time to time, but her mind was blank. Keeping a lid on Ethan, she focused on Sofia, letting her energy slip a bit more. Her vision was getting dark, but she was able to see both her legs, sandwich, book and hovering Emmet, while also seeing the Cullens whispering at each other too quickly and too low for her ears to understand.</p><p>She let go of the new perspective and focused on her food. Looking to the side she realized the big boy was still there. Almost lost.</p><p>“Do you want to sit?” He stared at her with earnest surprise. Sitting wasn’t a thought he usually had, then. She made an elaborated gest with her hand, presenting the bench.</p><p>Emmet sat beside her and the minutes were gone in silence. At the distance the Cullen argued fast. Theresa finished her food, stood up and walked away. If they weren’t going to kill her for knowing they weren’t human yet, she had better things to do.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The following week was boring as life usually is. Lauren would avoid her and during lunch would pretend the other girl wasn’t real in a respectful fashion. Between surprised she could be healthily ignored and relieved they stopped feeling the need to talk with her about everything, Theresa continued with the sitting arrangement.</p><p>Ethan was quieter and less active, but Sofia made for the silence loud crackles and spitting comments. She had met the new girl, Bella Swan, as she liked to be called. Her curiosity over the one who dared to walk with creatures (<em>night creatures</em>, something flickered in her mind) died pretty quickly. A thin doe eyed teenager with awkward speech patterns and shy behavior.</p><p>“Nah. Don’t move yet, Bella.” Theresa’s pencil moved as quick as her eyes, tracking lines and patterns on the blushing girl. “You are going to love it, I swear.”</p><p>Mike laughed. “Don’t let her sweet talk you, Bella, she just wants collaborative people to draw.” Theresa huffed, but continued her portrait. “She talked half an hour with me about how warm and wonderful my eyes are until I accepted to be still for her.” It took less than five phrases to convince him, but why would she spoil his narrative?</p><p>“There’re prettier people for you to sketch, Theresa, I don’t know why you would ask it from me.” Her voice was low and hesitant. She felt an urge to hug the girl. Bella was a people pleaser and she had only accepted Theresa’s request of sitting because she didn’t know how to say no.</p><p>“It’s what is beautiful that I want to eternise, Bella, and it’s for you that I am drawing. I want you to be able to see yourself. Different than looking into a mirror, your brain will take a few seconds to realize it’s an amazing portrait made by the incredible and talented me. In those moments you are going to realize the soft shape of your face, the size of your eyes and the beauty I captured on the paper. Then you are going to see it’s you and, I hope, how beautiful you are.”</p><p>“And she keeps sweet talking her way with us.” Mike laughed and elbowed Eric who was snickering at her discourse.</p><p>“I think this is a pretty deep reason to draw and a very noble cause too.” Angela glared at the boys. She had accepted Theresa’s wavering presence in the group. The silences, incessant drawings and mood swings were noted, yes, but never aloud.</p><p>“You never asked to draw me. I want to see how beautiful I am too, although I do know our self-perception is altered by what we believe is our worthy.” Jessica kept her eyes on the rapid movement of Theresa’s hand and how the portrait turned ultrarealistic in an almost too fast to keep up with pace. “It could be a feminist act, like you’re rebuilding self-steams and promoting love and acceptance.”           </p><p>“Or I just like to draw.” Getting a glimpse of Jessica’s affronted face, she had to bite her lips to avoid laughing. “I mean it though. I am one of the most selfish people I had the pleasure to meet. Anyway, I already made a portrait of you.”</p><p> “What? You never asked me or told me to stay still.” The girl arranged her honeyed hair and stared at Theresa with disbelief.          </p><p>“I don’t actually need to. I have a very accurate memory.” Or Sofia and Ethan had, with their information storage being static and fed by her own energy. But she knew her ability with a pencil was part of her curse. She inherited skills from the dead and faces were constantly being printed under her eyelids. “It’s somewhat more intimate to ask someone to pose, but the result is the same.” She shrugged at the protest Mike was raising. He would love to be an exception. Trancing Bella’s eyebrows with care, she talked to Angela. She was the least nosy. “Could you pick the red sketchbook inside my bag, please? I have a few portraits of you and some others.”</p><p>While Angela and Jessica marvelled themselves with the drawings, the comments started to grow in volume. “I am fucking beautiful. Look at this, Angela, I am a goddess. The nose, the lips. Hot.” Or “Is this the Cullens? All of them? And you did without staring like a creepy? It’s so real. Could you make the same with less clothes?”</p><p>She murmured back without paying any attention. “Yes, to all your questions. But let’s not be creepy and start a wave of drawing pornography.”</p><p>“<em>Aha</em>! A very naked man here in the beginning. Was him your boyfriend? So many details. You are a complete perv.” Jessica almost screamed to the rest of the cafeteria. Theresa frowned but kept her attention on Bella.</p><p>“What is the date?”</p><p>“January. This year. Why, do you have of more than one guy?” Her voice was hushed in promise of gossip. She knew Mike was a spluttering mess and Erik scandalised. At least Tyler was somewhere else licking Lauren’s wounds.</p><p>“Jessica! You can’t just ask this to someone.” Bella was a bright red. Theresa laughed.</p><p>“He was kind of a boyfriend, I think. Honestly, who knows and who cares?” If Sofia wasn’t dead already, she would die choking on her own laugh. “Angie, could you please put the notebook back as we are already done adoring the beauty of our goddesses faces on paper?”</p><p>The smaller girl obeyed, and Theresa flashed her a smile and a wink. Turning to Bella, she said “I will give it to you tomorrow though, it’s not done yet. But thank you for posing.” She looked around to see the Cullens staring at them, what was almost routine. Jasper’s and Rosalie’s sneer were perfectly mirrored. Emmet was similar to Sofia, roaring laugh making people turn to look at his unapologetic face. Alice was sniggering and just with a glimpse of Edward paralysed, shocked face sent Theresa into a fit of giggles. She looked at Bella, who was also trying to keep her laugh in check.</p><p>“Bella, I think you should check your boyfriend. Something broke him.” After another round of laughing at his face, Theresa organized her stuff and excused herself. She may still have time to a smoke.</p><p>Giggling like a fool against the cold wind, she lighted a cigarette and stared at the forest ahead. She could feel Ethan and his silence and Sofia laughing. Silencing them for a minute, she appreciated the way her body relaxed when the smoke filled her lungs. With her eyes closed, she was aware she wasn’t alone. Another drag and she knew he was there. Jasper. Even muted, her ghosts ran under her skin and his own whispered on the wind. An almost silenced scream in the air and him, his presence. She opened her eyes to the empty courtyard. Fast, strong, cold, yellow eyes and followed by death. An enigma undressed itself under her eyes. She turned her back to it, to its mysteries and its unwanted answer, and entered the school. Her lighted cigarette burned on the ground. She felt Jasper stare following her while she walked away.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Laying on her bed, she let her ghosts roam free. Ethan was beside her, a cold hand running through her head. Sofia should be playing potherghaist with the closest neighbor. She was a menace, Theresa knew. An extra burst of life and she couldn’t be held back. Not before telling her how she should shock her conservative group of friends with a wild party filled with alcohol and drugs, like the good ol’days, at least.</p><p>“Are you still mad?” She hated how small her voice sounded.</p><p>“I can’t be mad. Not truly, you know that.” She knew and yet his words stabbed her in ways no one else could. “My feelings and wishes are superficial and so often linked with your own. I have no desire of staying and no desire of leaving. Yet you keep me around only to shush me when I could help and then to distract yourself when you see the company of the living as unfulfilling.”</p><p>Her white ceiling had cracks. Small and thin, dark roots running over her head, pouring over her as rivers. She could see a lightning somewhere. Theresa saw his profile and how his eyes traced the same pattern again and again. Turning to him, Theresa saw the small eyes, patrician nose and strong jaw. Dark hair spilling on her white quilt. The washed black of his Metallica shirt. She had the real one in her drawer. The old jeans and full lips. She remembered how sweet and how painful his love had been. Twin scars running from his wrist toward the inside of his elbows, twin scars that matched her own.</p><p>He had killed himself knowing about her <em>gift</em>, as he called. (Sofia always named it a curse and sometimes Theresa could do no more than agree.) He knew it and he pushed her to another lovers, other distractions and expected her to forget him, the reason she was still sane, her confident and her company. He killed himself on her and she didn’t call him back even when she found his cold body sitting on the tub, head tilted back, white neck exposed and jet hair against the white tiles, as white as her ceiling, as white as her quilt.</p><p>No. She allowed him his choice, the one he always told her he wanted to. She wasn’t no goddess, not to force him to stay, not to forgive him. But she felt rage, burning her veins and destroying her brain. So, she kept from calling his ghost back. She lived for a month on the shadows he had left behind. Until it was too much, unknown ghosts climbing into her fragile head while she let other people into her bed. Until it was too much and the alcohol didn’t keep her numb enough.</p><p>Until she hurt another, ghosts, life, energy, all floating around her while she drowned and lashed out. She almost killed one girl. Seizures, the doctor said it happened. Theresa knew it wasn’t, knew how she had overloaded on a girl, a girl who wanted to help, the presence of her uncontrollable ghosts. When all that energy left her, and she saw the shaking student she was relieved. But the girl got back on her feet, and the ghosts were back on Theresa’s heel.</p><p>She weighted asking for help, showing what she could do and begging, <em>begging</em>, to someone make use of her. Or putting her down like a wounded animal. One weekend alone and she found herself with her not quite red not quite blond hair spilling on the tiles into the water. Twin scars, white and straight. No one warned about the pain, so scream she did. They weren’t scars then, they were open wounds, raw flesh and spilling blood. It hurt and she was so, so angry. How couldn’t he warn, at least <em>warn</em> her, about what he would do, about the pain? Feverish eyes and black spots on her world, she called him forth and whispered some of the draining life of her on him.</p><p>If he had asked, she would have been with him, pain or not, they would match wounds and match death dates. But he didn’t. While her life dropped into the water, red as her hair wasn’t, her sanity snapped, and she breathed into his echo. He was with her, then, on the tub, watching Theresa throw her life away. He was comfort and she was his punishment. Something in her withered with joy at the pain, and despair of a oh, so fresh dead Ethan. His confusion, his anger. She devoured his emotions. Ethan had hated her. So, he punished her, he saved her. He stole the loose vital energy of hers and warned the neighbor. Potherghaist, cracked all the windows of the house and destroyed with noises and thunder each room until someone entered the open door of the chaos. Until someone found her, and she was saved.</p><p>Her ghost, her beloved Ethan with his twin white scars where he bled to death. They were never scarring, they never closed. But he enjoyed them like hers. Thin lines to be hidden under long sleeve shirts and excuses. She could still see him lying beside her, with black hair spilling on her quilt, even with the tears on her eyes distorting the world. How could she not hate him? How could she not love him? Her Ethan turned to her, emotion tuned enough with hers to realize what she was remembering, with his empty eyes and sad eyes, he asked aloud and in their shared conscious “Is this still my punishment for leaving you behind?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She woke with her eyes heavy and head aching. A shower and she dressed herself in a jeans skirt, a thick pantyhose and a long-sleeved shirt. Her old all-star and she thought about putting some make up to cover the purplish under her eyes but decided against it. She didn’t care with what they would think of her anyway.</p><p>Exhausted beyond her years, she watched the filled parking lot before holding herself against her car and lightning a cigarette. She could afford losing the first period. She couldn’t afford company. She turned to the girl now standing beside her and raised her eyebrows.</p><p>“You now this will kill you one day, don’t you?” Bella faced straight ahead.</p><p>“You know skipping class will get you into trouble, don’t you?” The other girl shrugged, and Theresa turned to stare at her. They weren’t close, not in any way. <em>“She wants something.” </em>Ethan warned from far away.</p><p>“It’s cold, you don’t smoke, and you also don’t skip a lot of classes if I got you right. Not without you boyfriend, at least. What are you doing here?” She fought the urge to rub her eyes and held a sigh back. She really needed a good night of sleep. She turned her ghosts’ voices into a distant murmur and let the silence stretch away.  </p><p>“I wanted you to lunch with us today, me and Edward. And the rest of the Cullen.” She bent her head and kicked a rock. “You are not really fond of them, are you?” Bella peeked a look at Theresa’s exasperated face.</p><p>“I will, no problem. They are not fond of me either, though. Why the invitation?” She had more to do with life than lunch with them, but she also had nothing better to do at the moment. It would be a distraction from her memories, at least. She could hardly make things worse while sating her curiosity and if she didn’t really care about their opinion on her.</p><p>Bella blinked a few times and opted for the honest route. “Edward says they are curious about you. Don’t worry, though, I would be with you all time. I know they can be somewhat overwhelming.” Not for the first time Theresa wondered if the girl was aware of what they were. Could someone date a different creature without realizing it? Stealing a look at Bella she nodded her approval.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter will be on Emmet's and Jasper's POV.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lurking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theresa provokes havoc and the Cullens are not amused.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hard chapter to write. Not sure if I got Jasper's darker persona right, but I hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jasper Hale took a deep breath he didn’t need when he came back from the woods on that fateful day. Alice was expecting him to talk about his little hunting time and he could hear Edward on the piano, playing a new song he wrote. The house was empty, as Rosalie and Emmet had gone away to have a quality time together, same as Esme and Carlisle.</p><p>Staring at the small woman in front of him, he wondered if she was aware of him almost killing the human. If she hadn’t seen how easily he switched back to the predator he was. By her emotions varying to curiosity and confusion, she hadn’t.</p><p>Across the place, curiosity spiked in Edward. Another breath and he let his superficial thoughts run over the annoying behavior Alice displayed instead of the human he found. Their relationship was in shambles, no secret there, as there were also few secrets one was able to keep in the household. </p><p>They had tried to live as mates but as soon as they got with the Cullens he realized they were just lost nomads clinging into each other while searching for reasons to exist, to hope. The family was one and what had been a need of touching, talking and sex turned into a familial bond. A whim, if you will. </p><p>He owned a bite mark on her shoulder and she made a mirrored mark on him. There had been the potential to be mates, once, but the scars were only scars and their bond never evolved. They had tried, but not truly, never truly, because just as Jasper used her high moods to ground himself, she used him to influence the ambient.</p><p>Somewhere along the way, he had turned from omitting to lying. Jasper enjoyed the benefits of being in a strong coven while also straying away sometimes so he would be able to <em> slip </em> without any judging eyes over him. But that line of thought was dangerous to have, even if muffled with other random daydreams, and Edward was too nosy for his own good.</p><p>But Jasper was an empath, so with impulsive and almost thoughtless actions – protecting himself of his siblings’ gifts – while also playing with subtle feelings and desires of those around him, he was let out of the spotlight Alice expectative had put him under. The girl, the promise of blood, was forgotten. At least until Monday when he was able to feel her scent wondering the hall.</p><p>He cursed the damn girl for starting her junior year in March. Who does that, besides running vampires and pale apathetic girls like Bella? Jasper didn’t try to hide his contempt. She chased his thoughts and now the halls of the school he attended.</p><p>His mind traveling back to her and his bitterness growing, he forced himself to be cautious. At least when near his family. The younger boy glanced at him, maybe catching some of his thoughts or maybe getting affected by Jasper bitterness. Sometimes he would let his emotions lash out. It could be educational. Don’t fucking annoy me, it would sing. And dozens of newborns would bow if memory served.</p><p>But he wasn't in the South. He was playing a high school student and his fuckin' thoughts weren't safe. As the Major, he had developed great control over his emotions, and discipline came easier to him. Peter would laugh of him if he saw Jasper struggling against himself over Edward's prude, but prodding, mind. </p><p>The cafeteria was filled with strong volatile emotions, typical teenage scenario. He tried to catch a glimpse of her mood without turning the other vampires’ attention to her. Keeping his irritation in check, he covered his thoughts of belonging, of hunting. Jasper hardly ever left a prey leave, and yet she was breathing still.</p><p>In a table filled with pathetic teenagers and a missing Bella – flu, headache? – sat his target. He could see she was taller than the other girls, and maybe even taller than Rosalie. Slender, but not formless like Edward’s human, she had the perfect shape and soft curves to attract him, his attention, and his hunger. Trying to distract himself from the conversation happening on her table, he found himself partially grateful Bella was absent. At least they wouldn’t be forced to suffer through lunch around her scent. </p><p>Half listening to the humans talking about her, her drawing, her dead friend, Jasper smirked when they asked her opinion on their family. Tunning himself with her feelings, curiosity - his own and maybe some of hers - bloomed inside him and he held his amusement tight when she showed disinterest for them or their relationships. Refreshing, if insignificant. </p><p>Their table froze, however, when she defined them as dead. Touchy word and uneasy exploded in most of them, Edward though was growing annoyed. He tilted his head to the younger vampire. Rosalie was more direct “Does she know something?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Her thoughts are too loud and too different. As if not hers.” He sneered at the human “She has a crowd inside her head. I can’t hear her.” The last words were spat, and he glared at Jasper when the blond mused about the irony of it.</p><p>Her grey eyes reading them, reading his body, desire laced on her languid movements only too announce them as too dead was almost funny, though. Almost. Jasper heard when some teenager tried – and succeed – to be cruel and shame his human for her drawing and tastes.</p><p>Any playful mood vanished when her scent spiked, however. He could almost taste how hot her blood would feel against his lips. Her mood went from silent into annoyed only to become growing anticipation.</p><p>With eyes glued on her, he was almost possessive of the human. Silencing the low growl at the base of his throat at the wondering gazes of his coven, he heard her name. Theresa, he tasted it. He had seen her first, nameless, crazed eyes and bloodied lips, mind lost on a dead crow. </p><p>Burying his not human-friendly thoughts – you can’t see them as prey, darlin’ – he felt when Theresa turned subdued and panic exploded on the blond girl, Lauren if he had to guess. True and unfiltered horror marring her face and he was sure the Cullens noticed.</p><p>She had scared Lauren, and although Jasper had no idea how she did it, he knew she was gifted. He saw the fucking bird’s heart start kicking. He knew she had a secret, as it tasted so sweet and dangerous on his tongue, and he wasn’t particularly tempted to share with the others.</p><p>So much potential, so much power. The beast inside him stirred and the Major saw a weapon disguised in human flesh and blood. A menace. </p><p>“What just happened?” Emmet voiced what they were all thinking. Edward scowl deepened and his eyes darkened in rage. Jasper hoped he wouldn’t play stalker boy again with another human able to avoid his gift. But the girl was no potential shield. A fucking mystery, but not a shield.</p><p>When sweet Theresa blinked and her pale complexion lighted up, confusion and tiredness giving space to a mechanical playfulness, paired with a lascivious smile and deceptive laugh toward another awkward teenager, Jasper got mad. She was unstable or crazy or simply not all that human either. He saw how she flirted her way without a drop of lust in her. Manipulative, so manipulative. And only he could notice. </p><p>When she turned her grey eyes back to them only to describe how unnatural they behaved, Jasper felt like laughing, walking toward her, and breaking her pretty neck. Tilted face and lazy smile, she had the guts to talk about how he and his siblings needed to learn how to control their anger. Rosalie was murderous and the table threatened to crack under Edward’s hand. Still, when on her first analyze Jasper had been able to feel her desire and attraction, now there was only a cool mocking glint emanating from her. Muffled, though. Every mood was damped and watered down, except when her blood boiled, and her gift acted.</p><p>They would need to make a decision, soon. She knew too much. Or she didn’t know enough as she felt safe enough to provoke them. </p><p>He watched her, again a blanket over her emotions. Not bored, not interested, and not quite anything. She was absent. Dancing around conversations without really being touched by them. He hated it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Emmet rubbed his neck. All the family sat together and once again the topic was a human who could know too much. Part of him thought it would be easier to just snap the girl’s neck and be done with it. Carlisle and Esme were more favorable to the idea of moving.</p><p>“We are not moving. Or I am not. Bella needs me here.” The bronze haired boy said.</p><p>“So, we let another one walk away with a secret that can lead us to our death?” Rose was mad, as mad as when Edward told them he had explained about their existence to his very human girlfriend.  </p><p>  “Or we can just kill her and be done with it.” He pipped in, ignoring Carlisle shaking of head and Esme tired sigh.</p><p>“Are we even sure she knows? Edward can’t get any confirmation.” Esme tried to pacify the table. She always assumed the motherly role. Emmet enjoyed it even if he didn’t need it. To be fair, he didn’t need much in life, anyway. Rose, sex, and a lot of blood – even if animal - already made him happy.</p><p>Emmet was a simpler man than most. He would have no trouble killing the girl if it made his wife happier, so he just shrugged.</p><p>“She would need to be very stupid to announce her thoughts about vampires in a room full of them. Or maybe suicidal.” Alice mused. She sat beside Jasper but there was no signal if they were talking or ignoring each other again. No grounding touch on the blond man or reassuring glances at the pixie, so Emmet was inclined to think they were playing friend but not <em> too close </em> friends.</p><p>“I don’t believe she knows. She’s gifted, though, so she may have realized we aren’t human. But she doesn’t know, consciously at least, what we’re.” The whole table turned to Jasper. The words were dragged out of him, almost hesitant. Looking at the table, he didn’t offer any insight into her gift or how he was aware of it. Alice tensed beside him and Edward narrowed his eyes. “She could be of more use turned than dead in an alley if it gets to it.” </p><p>“I can’t see any glimpse of her as a vampire.” The pixie had her eyes glazed as she peered into the future. “Different than Bella, which my first vision was of her as a vampire. It’s her fate.” Jasper snorted at that. Emmet knew he hated when Alice talked about destiny or as if her visions held all the cards. </p><p>They weren’t close, him and the southern vampire, but from time to time the blonde would hunt with them or wrestle with him on the grass, and sometimes they had conversations too. Emmet enjoyed those. Despite quiet, Jasper always had a cynical comment to make. He was aware of the older vampire's experience and past, but when they talked far from the others it became clear; a man uncomfortable being led around, sardonic toward their life philosophy, and yet nice to speak with. He didn’t judge Emmet’s urges to behave in a more animalistic way, if anything, Jasper stimulated it.</p><p>“Can you even see her future at all, Alice?” Jasper’s voice was calm, but the jab was clear. Alice hated blind spots. So, they were in the passive-aggressive stage, now. Soon to follow would be aggressive sex and a fail attempt to make things work.</p><p>“I saw glimpses of her in your future.” Jasper arched his eyebrows and smirked. “Did you see anything else besides the possibility of her when I went hunting?” Carlisle's mouth was a thin line, clearly disappointed over being left out whatever had happened. Alice just looked the other way. She hadn’t. The tension between them made the others stiff.</p><p>Edward, however, wasn’t bothered. “Can you feel her, Jasper?”</p><p>“I can. But as you can hear her thoughts only to understand gibberish, I can feel her emotions, though they are mostly muffled, and when not, they are incompatible with the environment.” He sat back on his chair, letting his gaze wander. “She's not like Bella, Edward.”</p><p>“You met her before, didn’t you?” There was no judgment in Carlisle's voice, but Emmet had to hold back from flinching anyway. Jasper had a bad historic with humans and an even worse habit of distancing from the family when messing with said humans.</p><p>“Do you have any idea of her gift? For you to be so sure it must have been defining.” The older vampire was bent toward Jasper, curiosity shining on his eyes. He had a knack in collecting gifted vampires, it was known.</p><p>“I saw her in the woods.” Jasper’s dark eyes were solely focused on Carlisle. They measured themselves as equals, and the vampire treated the doctor more as a coven leader than as a paternal figure. “She brought a bird back to life while I watched, so I would suggest something related to necromancy.”</p><p>A shiver ran through Emmet’s body, and he would be cold if he was able to. Most of the faces around him showed flashes of uneasy too. Gifts were dangerous things and some of them could tilt the balance of their world. The Volturi herd them and tried to keep a monopoly of power. The idea of something bigger, something stronger, could certainly protect the coven. Carlisle seemed thoughtful.</p><p>“She didn’t see you, did she?” Jasper only chucked. “I won’t condone forceful turning someone, but it may be for the best to keep an eye on her. Before, you should try to discover what she knows or what she doesn’t about us.”</p><p>Somewhat that turned into a plan of throwing Emmet to the little human and seeing what she had to say. Enough to say is they weren’t amused with the results. After another awkward familiar reunion on the same human, Edward decided to put his little girlfriend to work on it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Theresa walked side by side with Bella. The shorter teenager was mumbling something about a teacher and Jasper watched the red-haired girl just glance toward the other human and the Cullens. He had no idea how Bella had convinced her to lunch with them, but while the former was anxious, Theresa had the same nonchalant mood of hers.</p><p>“Oh, Bella. I almost forgot.” Theresa stopped the other girl a few feet from the table. She pulled a colored paper from her bag and gave it away. “I finished it with watercolor. Not sure if you like it, but I love the dreamlike vibe it can give to drawings.”</p><p>They sat on the table, each one of them too absorbed in their separated world. “I loved it. You drew me so… delicate. And pretty.” Bella blushed, eyes still on the painting. “Definitely pretty.” She smiled in greeting to the other occupants of the table. Emmet smirked and Alice waved happily. Rose sneer deepened. The human gave her portrait to Edward to look. “This is Theresa, Theresa, my boyfriend Edward and his siblings, Emmet, Rosalie, Jasper, and Alice.”</p><p>The taller girl sat between Bella and Alice, bowing her head toward Emmet in a hello. Purplish tones adorned her eyes and her pale mouth - touched by small bite marks – was closed in a downturned curve. She was somber and while her mood was a monochrome wave of indifference and boredom, her downcast grey eyes showed her more absent than the usual. Jasper tried to send a small bolt of energy and disposition to the girl, only to watch mesmerized as she started to frow. Maybe he should make a more subtle try. She shouldn’t be able to recognize his influence, not when the change he promoted was so soft. No human should. </p><p>Jasper tried to keep his breathing shallow and sparse. Bella’s scent was sweet, too sweet, for comfort. He had experience dealing with humans, but his proximity to Edward while in her vicinity made his control strain. She was his singer, and his hunger was Jasper’s. </p><p>Theresa's presence was a welcomed surprise by diffusing his attention. Her scent, deep and complex, shades of sweetness and something biting was heady, but not provoking of overbearing bloodlust. Not as much as when he saw her in the woods, at least.</p><p>“You are somewhat familiar to me. Have we ever met outside school?” Waves of curiosity and tension, Edward tried to modulate his voice in a less threatening tone. Brooding and ill-tempered, he struggled with social etiquette. Some young vampires leaned too much on their looks and seductive nature, proving themselves clumsy when meeting someone less likely to be dazed. And almost like a challenge, Jasper wanted her bewildered. </p><p>“Pretty sure I had never met any of you before. Or if I did, I am not aware.” Theresa never saw him that day. Such a shame, Jasper thought. She watched her painted nails as if they held the answer for life. Dark blue nail polisher chipped at the corners. Looking at Edward from the corner of her eyes, her mouth curved in a small smile. “Why are yours and your siblings’ eyes golden?”</p><p>Rosalie had her hands in tight fists and eyes darkening in rage. Jasper sent her a strong sense of calm. She glared at him but relaxed her shoulders. No attacking the human, Rose. Not yet. And not this one, either.</p><p>“If you think I am familiar is probably because you walked past my mother one time or another. I was told we are very similar. She works as a nurse at the Hospital.” She turned her focus to Alice. “So why are your eyes yellow?”</p><p>“Because they are.” Rose’s words were harsh and opened no space for discussion. The human just shrugged. Bella watched them as if they were playing tennis. A shift of joy in her, and he knew she was just glad someone wasn’t intimidated by his sister. </p><p>  “Is it a forbidden topic, then? We just pretend it’s normal you all – adoptees, if I recall – to share the same eye color? I can create a wild tale about a cult and eye lenses if it makes things easier for you.” She stared at their enraged faces but silent voices and smiled. They wanted answers and for that, they would accept her attitude. The amusement she felt showed Jasper she was well aware of it. “Oh, don’t be so bitter. I got it, tabu subject. We could talk next about incest, but I think it would be a low step to take when you invited me to lunch.”</p><p>Theresa knew she was there to be interrogated. Smart girl. She would be smarter if she had packed and left the state upon meeting them for the first time, but he supposed she could be taught to deal with their kin. His siblings, however, were too tense to play the game Theresa tried to initiate. Her provocations were met with silence and she rolled her eyes at them.</p><p>She picked an apple from her bag and took a bite. “Are they this annoying with you too, Bella?” She winked at Edward. “I hope the pretty boy isn’t or he’s prone to a surprise. Short life spans and fickle emotions, you know? We get bored quickly.” Edward bristled and Emmet was torn between horror and amusement. If she knew anything about what she was hinting around, their options were limited. Kill or turn. Thinking about the ordinary human holding onto Edward as dear life, he acknowledged the third one: be a good little pet. He doubted Theresa would be amused by the idea.</p><p>Bella was red and stuttered like a child. Stupid eyes trying to receive some guidance for what to answer, she remembered Jasper of a lost puppy. Edward flashed an annoyed glance at him. They had decided the more human-friendly of them would make the conversation and yet they had another failure. He sighed. He may enjoy watching them out of their footage, but their discomfort and confusion were starting to get into him.</p><p>Theresa was under the spotlight and she kept digging her grave.</p><p>“Are you not going to eat more?” Bella - loyal to a fault as always - tried with a hesitant voice to buy them more time. The apple was already half-eaten.</p><p>“Won’t they eat anything?” The retort was immediate. Face softening after Bella’s flinch, Theresa smiled, and Jasper knew they were losing her interest fast. A flicker of annoyance and boredom made him worry about any type of success. “Just not hungry, don’t worry about me.”</p><p>Bella played with her fork and silence reigned. What could they ask her, what could they do to break her balance and pry some answers? Alice’s face was dazed, and Edward frowned at the table, both of them trying to get a glimpse of something. The other vampires kept their eyes on Theresa, absorbing each small movement. Jasper held a heavy hand on Rosalie’s emotions. Her temper threatened to flair with each passing minute.</p><p>“What do you conceived you know?” His slipping words surprised all, including himself. He didn’t plan to interfere or to show any interest that could be questioned, as his reasons to pay attention to humans always bordered bloodlust or aggression. </p><p>The idea of his siblings failing to get anything of the small puzzle was entertaining to no end but having her so close and keeping his mouth shut proved itself an impossible feature. So, he gave up. He could deal with the collateral damage and Alice's incessant lectures latter.</p><p>Theresa's eyes were swollen and bit reddish around the edges, but the grey around her pupils was cold and sharp as always. Being direct seemed the easier way and the weight of her gaze made something inside him twist. He was reminded of how she stared at the dead animal and how during a few seconds, Theresa had him under her control.</p><p>“Enough to doubt about Bella’s decision-making capacity.” She flashed a grim smile to the other human. “Don’t get worked up, though, I really couldn’t care less about what you are or, in this case, what you aren’t.” Her voice was casual, but his siblings flinched unnoticed to human eyes. She talked about it, about them, without care. </p><p>“What’s that?” Everyone turned to look at Bella. Confusion and anxiety fighting over her, she had eyes fixed on Theresa’s wrist. The right sleeve of her black shirt had risen to the middle of her forearm where a thin white line scarred her skin. Being the sole focus of the table, Theresa turned her arm to face the offending mark. Two fingers tapping the fragile skin, she tilted her head and curved her lips into a mischievous smile. </p><p>“Rough night and kinky boyfriend.” Her smile widened at their shocked faces. Bella had her eyes large and mouth slack and even Jasper wasn’t immune to her words, but the slip of bitterness and amusement on her emotions made him somehow doubtful. Her moods were distant, but he knew enough about humans and vampires alike to call her bluff.</p><p>“Did he… he hurt you?” Bella's social anxiety was forgotten leaving worry behind. Maybe a bit of guilt too, for bringing what could be a sensitive subject under the preying eyes of the coven. Jasper wondered about the kinky part. Some humans enjoyed blood play, he knew that - and he wouldn’t expand about how he achieved that knowledge - but the scar was from a too deep wound in an unconventional place. </p><p>He had one or three too many degrees in psychology to recognize a scar from a suicide attempt. </p><p>Theresa smiled, though, unashamed and looked down at her right wrist. “Clearly. You know how it works, don’t you? Blood, pain, and whatever you can give.” Purposeful ambiguous words and he thought about a vampire forcing her still and cutting her arm open only to lick the blood away. With the right amount of venom on it, the cut could close without her turning.</p><p>Annoyed at the idea Theresa with her snark remarks being toyed by a random vampire, he tried to rationalize it. The control necessary would be exceptional.</p><p>Her voice was steady and uncaring when she added “Not my life, though.” He saw himself holding her on his arms and tasting the blood of her lips. Would he be able to do the same? Lust pooling in the pit of his stomach, he tried to banish images of Theresa bloodied form and moaning mouth. Her grey eyes would be wide and affected, and he would be able to taste her fear and hesitation turning into lust when he started to drink her life away, drop by drop. Oh, it would burn on his tongue, he was sure.</p><p>Edward’s low growl brought him back to reality. The boy had darkened eyes and strong bloodlust. Loud thoughts? He blinked a few times to dispel the haze. He needed to hunt. And to get a grip over himself, desperately. </p><p>Theresa had covered her arm and was glancing at him. Was Jasper staring? He kept his face blank and eyes unwavering, though. She had her cold gaze fixed on him and he knew he could make her break, if outside his coven's watch. </p><p>“So, great catching up with you guys. Or not.” Theresa had a flippant smile in place and Jasper felt the rage emanating from Rosalie. She got her things together and left without looking back, slipping from their hold effortlessly.</p><p>Bella looked at them, expecting the Cullen to share their insights, and was only met with silence. You can pet them, but not treat them as equal. Edward stilled and Jasper knew he had been heard, again. And yet nobody said anything. She took it as a sign her presence wasn’t needed and vacated the table with a wave and some words to Edward. Jasper couldn’t care less.</p><p>“She knows too much.” Emmet's line of thought was simple and yet none of them wanted to recognize it. If she knew, she needed to be turned or killed. It was already very risky to keep Bella as it was and a heated topic of discussion. </p><p>“But she doesn’t care to know more.” Edward added as if it would help Theresa’s case. The human had destroyed her chance of going unnoticed only to mock them and Jasper knew, sooner or later, the Coven would be forced to do something.</p><p>“Do you think she already met another vampire?” Rose had a bleeding heart, in the end. Her thoughts were still lost on the scar and what may have caused it. Violence against women had always been her weakness.</p><p>The question was open to all of them, but her eyes were on Jasper. She trusted his judgment above all others. And Emmet trusted hers over anyone else. Satisfied with the control he exerted over the family; Jasper shook his head.</p><p>“Venom would have let only the shade of a scar. Some humans enjoy mixing sex and blood, as she implied, but that would have been a peculiar place to delve in as it’s not easy to stop the bleeding of a vertical incision on the wrist. Not with the deepness, the scar resembles. If I had to bet, I would say suicide attempt.” He said. </p><p>A part of him was annoyed over sharing his conclusions, but Jasper knew he had to share the minimum to keep them from misjudging and committing mistakes. “Smart attempt of hers in diverting attention though, vulgar words and shock can be a great cover. She was indifferent enough to trick me about her intentions, but the amusement at Bella’s reaction was telling.”</p><p>“So, she’s suicidal?” Rosalie huffed; disdain was written on her face. “It keeps getting better.”</p><p>“And easier.” Emmet said. <em> What would take to forge a suicide scene? </em> Was left unsaid.</p><p>“No one is killing her.” Edward hissed. Having a human as a pet made him softer. Theresa was a matter of principle to him, of humanizing himself to feel closer to Bella. That and his soul and eternal damnation issues. A true Cullen, after all. “We should talk to Carlisle before anything.”</p><p>“I saw her, not clearly, but I saw her. She is at the courtyard smoking. And you are going to talk to her there.” Alice turned to Jasper. He smiled. Tiredness made Theresa predictable enough, then.  </p><p>“At your orders, ma’am.” He stood up and tilted his head at his siblings before following her faint scent in a building full of humans. It somewhat felt like hunting. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will be Theresa's POV with a little conversation with the Major.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pretty (empty) heads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theresa talks with Jasper Hale and goes to La Push.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Is that a new way to get closer to death?” Theresa saw Jasper in her peripheral vision. Blowing off smoke, she tilted her head up to look at him. She was used to having the same height as some boys and to be only slightly shorter than others. With him, though, she felt very small and young. </span>
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  <span>“Nah.” Leaning against the cold school bricks, she fought against a shiver. The price of a peaceful time was paid by shaking hands and blueish fingers. She hated the cold. “It’s more about courting death than actually achieving it.”</span>
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  <span>Theresa avoided looking at him then, under his eyes she could feel anxiety threatening to appear. His attention weighted her shoulders down and made her uncomfortable. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“At least they stopped playing human. And don’t even get me started with that pathetic attempt of an interrogation.” </span>
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  <span>Sofia didn’t like the Cullens, but she respected the girl’s indifference and compliance. She usually respected any decision if Theresa accepted peacefully the consequences, too. </span>
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  <span>Ethan’s unrest was as disturbing as his silence, and his nervousness was hers. She stole a glance at the man beside her. His eyes were focused on the woods before them, but she still felt him observing her. She cocked her head at the thought. Cornered, interrogated, and now stalked, she understood the growing discomfort. She felt like prey. That wouldn’t do.</span>
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  <span>“Are you courting or actively pursuing it?” Facing away from her, the corner of his lips was lifted in an almost smile. Theresa wasn’t fooled. She knew where he wasn't up for idle chatting, and friendly smiles wouldn’t change it.</span>
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  <span>“Does it make a difference?”</span>
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  <span>“Of course. Are you crawling and begging for your grave or just playing with the odds while being foolish?” His eyes flickered toward her right wrist and then to the cigarette between her fingers.</span>
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  <span>She could answer it in so many different ways, and they all would be true. Theresa could say she begged for her death when she tried to kill herself, but at the same time wasn't she playing with the cards she was given when she fell for Ethan and tried to follow him until the end? For some reason, she felt her reply held more importance than a simple conversation in the courtyard did. </span>
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  <span>“I try to think of myself as the courting type, then. But I guess we all are constantly dancing with the chances, think about it, Hale. Humans are so fragile. There are plenty of insignificant things capable of putting us down, and to be able to live everything is bound to die. I, as an example, have a high probability of developing cancer, bad habits aside, because it runs in my family.” Theresa took another drag and felt it relaxing her sore muscles. The man waited for her to conclude and she was somewhat grateful for his silence. “And yet, there are car accidents, the many bad habits, reckless behavior, and people with malicious intent. I play with the odds and I try to have fun. Fools, maybe, but aren't we all?” </span>
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  <span>She turned to look at him and was stunned. Golden eyes, honey blonde hair caressing his jaw, and features carved in marble. Theresa was reminded of a Greek statue, frozen in time under the eyes of passing mortals. He towered over her.</span>
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  <span>“I doubt it is a simple as you define it. I can’t see you challenging death or taking on the dice, but I can picture you as the moving on and on type of girl, who is just too scared to do any different even when there's a cliff right in front of you.” With a mocking smile, he bowed his head and pointed to the cigarette. “Besides, it stinks.”</span>
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  <span>An incredulous laugh burst from her and Theresa almost forgot about where she was and who she was talking with. The arrogance of his statements, the gall of believing he knew so much about her. Her. Theresa was one, but she was also three with her ghosts and uncountable more with the ones she messed with. She was Theresa, but she was also Ethan, Sofia, Claire, Steve, Joshua, Mary, and many, many others. They were printed under her eyelids and she challenged death just by breathing. She wasn’t moving on; Theresa was constantly breaking the natural order of life and she was constantly being punished for it by her own body. </span>
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  <span>“Your assumptions are only funny because of how pretentious you are, pretty boy.” She was sure he was more than older than any other in the damn place, yet being disrespectful was too appealing. She had some years of instinctive knowing and stolen memories to count for age, anyway. “But right you are about something, it does stink.” She took it to her mouth again, lips twitching in a smile.</span>
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  <span>Jasper was somewhat close enough for her to feel the coldness of his body. She wasn’t aware he had moved. “Everybody who displeases you is a pretty boy now, or is this a privilege reserved only for me and Edward?” Golden eyes flashing and the promise of something on his voice, she felt her breath hitch. “Should I warn Emmet about it or somethin’?” </span>
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  <span>An unexpected southern drawl and Theresa was distracted from her thoughts. Jasper was too charming to be safe. Avoiding his eyes or his face or even his body, she tried to ignore the pull she felt towards him.</span>
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  <span>She had experience with Ethan’s life philosophy of charming his way out of trouble, so she pushed the unexpected whisper of lust away and ignored how beautiful he was, or the distance keeping their shoulders from touching, or how he was wearing that leather jacket again. An urge for reckless movements and indulgent desires made her think of stepping closer. A little banter and some haughty gesture, and he had her melted. Pathetic. </span>
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  <span>She filled her lungs with smoke to buy some time and raged over the knowing glint his half-smile had. He fucking knew how she was feeling, how attractive he was, and how she would dream of him on her bed. Another deep breath and slow exhale. She had grown up with Ethan, the so-called sex on legs. She cringed over the nickname and pushed her lustful musings away. She was no innocent virgin and she refused to be led by her lust.</span>
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  <span>“No need to worry that pretty head of yours, Hale. Emmet will be just Emmet until he proves himself a pretentious prick.” She blinked at his frozen face. Was he expecting her to be dazed till death? “After all, you know how it works, don’t you? The pretty face of a boy with an empty head is just that, pretty.”</span>
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  <span>She wondered if she had been rude when he stayed in silence for a few seconds. She hoped she hadn’t. It was fun talking to him. Then he just turned to face her with a predator smile. “I know I am pretty, darlin’, but keep speaking like that and you’ll make people wonder how you can stay this close to me without losin’ your damn mind.” </span>
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  <span>And as the words floated from his lips, overwhelming lust crashed over her. Fighting with her unstable legs and harsh breathing, Theresa tried to keep her body still, as if even the small friction could light her on. Jasper had his jaw slack and now dark eyes fixed on her face. She knew she was blushing, with her dropped cigarette on the floor and mouth slightly open. He looked amused. Amused. Rage made her grow even hotter, so she tried to reign some sense of calm.</span>
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  <span>Heat crawled her spine and she felt her body flushing. Limbs heavy and mentally lethargic, she was aware of his body next to her and when before his attention was overwhelming, now it was unbearable. Theresa gasped.</span>
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  <span>He was doing it to her. That lust, that feeling, it was too intense. It was scary. And disgusting. A tentative of wearing her down? Or was it a test? A fucking game? She felt Ethan’s cold hand on her shoulder and Sofia enveloping her with unfamiliar feelings. They were scared too. And angry. So just like a blanket, she discarded the growing inferno away while swiping places with Ethan. He wouldn’t abandon her. Not now.</span>
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  <span>As a distant spectator, she saw herself looking at Jasper’s shocked if maybe pleased face and then to her forgotten cigarette on the floor. </span>
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  <span>“Can’t say I’m surprised, but it’s still a shame. You seemed decent.” The words spoken by Theresa were monotone. Indifference and bitterness on her heels, she watched herself step over the burning little thing and turn away from the creature who liked to play god.</span>
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<p>
  <span>Laying on her bed, with glimpses of Jasper's sharp face and mocking smile in her mind, she hated herself. Warmth still plagued her thoughts and soured any planning she tried to do. She needed a distraction. There were no parties, no alcohol, and no charming human available for her to fool around without consequences. Licking her lips, she stilled her hands. The desire burning in her veins was hers with only Theresa to blame. The mind-blowing lust she had felt earlier wasn’t. It wasn’t natural and it wasn’t healthy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had a grasp on ghosts and Jasper Hale had a grasp on emotions, she realized. The memory of how easily he stole her control away and the little inconsistencies she had felt when sitting with them. The energy that wasn’t hers, lust that wasn’t hers. A part of Theresa screamed and cowered, but another, the one able to take the power over herself back, didn’t. That part was excited. That part was dying to be near him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We should avoid switching when close to them. I think they are noticing something happens when we do it.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ethan brushed his dark hair away from his forehead. Not normal yet, but the encounter with the creatures had made him more awake, present enough to help her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“They already realized something weird happens with frequency around Theresa, then.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sofia for once was quieter than usual. She and her unstable ghosts. Fitting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“No reason to hide and they are more scared of your scarce knowledge over them than about your little curse.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think Bella knows about them? I mean the whole - and unknown to us - truth, without manipulation or cover stories.” She mused aloud, torn between feeling sorry for the girl lost around monsters and exasperated because of said girl’s choice of company. Some could say the same about her own desires, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She knows more than you, at the very least. Must be exciting to have you close, one more to share the secret. Human too, for once.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The old ghost said.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Bella is very enraptured by them. Anyway, we know how hard is to have a secret that taints everything that makes you, you. And how hard it can be to let people close when all you can share is lies.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think we should avoid her and the Cullens. We don’t know what they are. But if you choose to keep Bella’s company you should at least try to discover what they are before. To be able to make a sane, rational decision, and all.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ethan had a more conservative view. When alive, he was the most reckless person she had ever met. He dragged her to trouble after trouble while laughing. Both of them were depressed and stupid. What was the worst fate they could encounter? Death? They were both alright with it, and so they thought at the time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But ghosts were unchanging, so she had expected his personality to stay the same. And it was, but she was barely able to recognize him sometimes. She wondered how much she had known of him. He had been impulsive until a few months before his death. Then, Ethan pushed her away. They had promised to be there for each other no matter what, until the end. Yet she was alone when she found his cooling corpse. Perhaps that was eternised in the echo of him she brought back to life; the urge of leaving her, the urge of keeping her alive. The same hurtful and cold methods to achieve his will; silence, distance, and a drop of disdain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A part of her had died with him in his bloodied bathtub. A part of her never came back to life, even when she brought him to the world he chose to leave behind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think the experience would be good for you”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sofia’s voice ripped her back to reality. The ghost explained, after receiving puzzled looks from the other two.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Being around the Cullen. Their secrets are worse than yours, and you wouldn’t need to hide. No need to share anything either, but you could be your morbid self without fearing to hurt sensibilities.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Worst case scenario: they kill you to protect their skeletons. Best case scenario: you make friends?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ethan sneered at them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You are always tired and bored. At least it would be a distraction.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sofia glared at Ethan even if she was talking to Theresa. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Besides, it would nice to talk, really talk, with people who aren’t the ghosts you play with.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Talk, really talk, not with your ghosts and not with your peers, but with the weird undead creatures who enjoy high school.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sofia ignored him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You already seem to appreciate the challenge and the, uh, friendly banter.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theresa turned their bickering in silence and left her mind to wonder. She had enjoyed, yes, the little game she was playing with them. But it wasn’t them, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jasper</span>
  </em>
  <span> who made it interesting. She knew she was outclassed when she had felt Jasper’s will destroying hers. And she was utterly inferior. Weaker, if you will. Enjoying dangerous situations was something, walking with closed eyes into an unknown one was another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she knew herself well enough to realize that thoughts of Jasper and his sibling would plague her mind. She knew she wouldn’t be able to let them go so easily. Theresa was aware she was having more fun than she had in years, Sofia was right about pretending, hiding and the exhaustion she felt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, she also knew how prone to obsessions she was, so if she wanted to dive into a new brave new world, a distraction would be needed. Something to ground her, something constant regardless of her tiredness and flicks of power, as her ghosts were. A safe place or an eccentric hobby, she didn’t care, just a damn rock to keep her from drowning. As lost as she was, she could lose herself too easily if she dived in too deep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theresa needed a night out filled with alcohol and people, too, and she had neither. But she had schoolwork and empty hours ahead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Groaning, she took her notebook out of her bag and got ready to do homework. She always found school easy, but so, so boring. Knowing how long the blessed (according to Ethan, at least) women in her family were able to live put things in perspective. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her grandmother dreamed of the dead and lived until almost fifty years old. Her daughters, the living ones, were in their late forties now. Anne, Theresa’s mother, wasn’t cursed or blessed at all. She was healthy. Sylvia? She was sensitive to their presence and sometimes was shadowed by it. Yet she was already facing aggressive lung cancer. Her dead siblings? A little boy who died at birth and a little girl with a brain tumor who didn’t reach eight years old. Sylvia, the oldest sister of them all, told Theresa the kid had been gifted too. Not as the girl herself was, but she had been able to talk with ghosts from time to time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theresa had her time counted; she knew it. The stronger the touch of the curse, the more it took from the body. She had yet to found something hers wasn’t able to accomplish, even if she was scared of destroying herself testing limits. Following the example of her family, she shouldn’t have been able to reach puberty, though. Healthy, if plagued with migraines, fainting, and occasional depressive crisis, she grew up expecting death and never mused about a future she wouldn’t have. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>However, there she was, alive, and what was high school beside the first step in a stair which top she could never reach? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aunt Sylvia hadn’t accepted that as reasoning, and she was forced to live her teenage years as her peers did. But Theresa couldn’t be convinced to be a dedicated student. Hungover in class, smoking in the parking lot, hooking up with who she wanted to. A reputation she built, no doubt. She just didn’t mind. Her priority was to make the most of the years, and that she had. Of course, finding Ethan corpse had changed it, but not much. She was as cold, ruthless, and uncaring as always, and after him, she was all that, but somewhat lacking. She played the game of making the best of what she had, but that was all it was. Only a game.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At the parking lot, she leaned against Tyler’s van and laughed with the other students. Jessica was ranting about some annoying teacher and impossible essay making Mike and Tyler nod and agree as if she was talking about the deep matters of existence. Angela was listening to music and talking to Eric, while Lauren hovered close enough to make a comment or two, but not engaging with the group. Bella was watching the space the Cullen wound soon occupy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She reminds me of my dog. It would keep staring at the door exactly like this until my brother was home.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Theresa still remembered the dog. It was ill-tempered and old. Ethan’s younger brother was the only loved by the little beast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could go to La push later.” Tyler proportioned them with the local beach and Theresa felt her eyebrows rising. Winter and they wanted to go there?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Theresa, you need to meet the place, it's amazing,” Angela said. She was a quiet and ordinary girl, but easy enough to like.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can surf.” Jessica had forgotten the teacher and was excited about the idea of going out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I would pay to see you on a surfboard.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ethan, who had tried to teach her once, said. Disaster, in one word, defined the whole experience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cold, too cold. I think I’ll be better at home with soft socks and a blanket.” It was the answer she could give them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to go into the water. I don’t surf and neither does Bella. C’mon, it will be fun.” There was Angela, blinking her innocent brown eyes again. Theresa tilted her head to see Bella's whole face change with the arrival of the Cullens. Scary, if not depressing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you go with us, Bella?” Jessica called her back to the world of the living. The girl had her cheeks red and needed to be reminded of what they were talking about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, I am not sure.” Voice low, she tried to search for some excuse. Jessica was not having it “You have to stay and hold Edward’s hand, right? Your poor friends are just meaningless now you got with the handsome guy, it’s always like that. Not nice of you, Bella, not nice.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brown-haired girl shook her head and mumbled something about having promised to hang out with Alice. Jessica's eyes were on her while the group gaped “Not even caring about your friend in the Rez? We can call them if it would make our company more palatable for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theresa was uncomfortable with the aggressive instance Jessica had assumed, but as soon as Bella walked away, the girl acted as if it was nothing wrong. Walking side by side with her, Theresa pipped in “You shouldn’t talk with her like that. If he’s actively monopolizing all of her time, this kind of reaction of yours will only ensure she feels unwelcomed and gets even more isolated.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lauren, who was close enough to listen, flinched. No, Theresa wouldn’t unleash nightmarish creatures on anyone who spoke different from her, but she also wasn’t the type of holding back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why should I care? No offense, Theresa, but you are rather new here. She used everyone as friends and ditched us when she latched on the freakish Cullen. And weren’t you lunching with them just yesterday?” Another flinch from Lauren. Was she that afraid Jessica would annoy Theresa?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She’s jealous one of the Cullen is with Bella and not with her. Or maybe it’s that and the desire for attention?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sofia was already excited about the prospect of a fight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hypocrite, much?” She voiced her thoughts. It wasn’t a fight she was invested in, but well, high school drama was in the package. She wouldn’t go out of her way to avoid it, even if the reasoning was silly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I was here, and no one owns no one friendship. Bella’s may be wrong, but so are you.” Lauren met two incredulous faces, although for different reasons. “To be honest, you only accepted her around because the guys were curious, and you wanted the new girl to hang out with our group.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was she answering to keep Theresa from doing it? She felt this was an important moment in Forks High School, although she couldn’t appreciate it fully, as her participation in the social pyramid was minimum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lauren looked down at Jessica, a sneer marring her pretty face “Besides, is all your talk about feminism a rehearsed speech? Alienating the girl from her friends is one huge red flag of abusive relationships. Offering friendly advice, support and company can do wonders, don’t you know? But why would you know anything that involves </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> caring about someone?” Lauren flipped her hair and turned her nose up, ignoring any tentative of reply from the other girl. But there wasn’t any.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jessica, stilling, had her mouth opened and pale face. She was stunned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Someone finally shut her up” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ethan groaned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“With more style than you would probably manage, too.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sofia was more than happy to add. Theresa felt almost as shocked as the girl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Walking side by side with Lauren, she noted the trembling hands and nervous eyes. If not, the teen seemed indifferent. She touched her arm and watched the girl freeze. “Thank you, I think. I don’t know Jessica at all, but she clearly had it coming.” Theresa scratched her neck. “It was fucking amazing, too. What did you say about her feminism serving for shits and giggles? So real it hurts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Straightening her blond hair, Lauren’s green eyes met hers and she smiled even if it was still shaken. “You are coming to La Push with us, aren’t you? I don’t feel like surfing today. Who knows, Jessica could plan my demise as a sacrifice for her inner goddess.” Theresa threw her head back and laughed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>La Push had round rocks and big waves. It was cold and the wind blew the salt and humidity at them, while clouds pillowed themselves over and over into what Theresa learned to recognize as Fork’s typical sky. The drive was pleasant enough and she felt better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a good day. High school drama made things interesting and no contact with the Cullens made it even better. Of course, she saw Bella and Edward at some classes, but their presence overall was reduced. And Jasper’s stolen glances felt nice, even if she didn’t want to think much about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glimpses here and there, he was always looking at her. When their eyes met, she would feel electricity running in her veins. She was attracted by him, alright. His display (of power, of recklessness, of cruelty?) on the day before should have made her more careful, but she still enjoyed knowing his eyes never traveled far from her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting on a log beside Lauren and Angela, Theresa felt herself relax with the lull of soft conversation. No smoking was needed this time. The waves crashing against the ground and the fading day over their heads, she was also cold. Soon, the surfing part of the group sat with them around the fire and some of the Quileute joined the group.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you friends with Bella?” A younger boy with dark eyes and long hair asked. Jake, she was told. “I thought she would be with you guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She wanted to spend time with her boyfriend.” Jessica's answer cut hers. At least it was restrained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She could have brought him, then,” Theresa said without thinking. The heat of the fire made her hands tingle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Cullens don’t come here.” A taller and older teenager named Sam answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And some of us don’t like to go near them either. My father goes to Port Angeles instead of Forks local hospital.” His girlfriend, Leah, added. She was taller than Theresa, with copper skin, brown eyes, and shiny dark hair covering her back. Gorgeous in a way Lauren and Jessica could never achieve, she was vibrant with life and had high cheekbones that made her elegant without effort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Theresa is a few steps from being like that too. Something about them being angry and awkward, I think.” Mike's voice trembled and he hugged himself to save some heat, taking away the joking edge of his speech.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My type of girl, then.” Said another boy way taller than her, Paul, with an arrogant smile and playful eyes, before laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am more the type of girl who will freeze soon.” Her teeth clenching, she looked at the now dark sky above her head. Time to go home, maybe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paul was at her side then, offering her a sip of his bottle. Cheap wine, she watched him drink before venturing herself with it. Jessica's eyes were wide as saucers “But you came driving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can crash at my place, Tessa, no problem” He urged all innocence he could muster in one phrase and it was still utterly malicious. She wanted to laugh and maybe say yes, only to see his reaction, but the nickname made her frown. Her colleagues laughed at his boldness and Angela repeated the diminutive, testing the sound of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A dirty dog, indeed. You can stay at mine, only if to save you from him.” Leah was laughing, though, and soon another bottle was opened. Her head wasn’t light yet, but she knew it would happen soon. Driving would be stupid. But she felt so deliciously numb to her ghosts she wasn’t able to avoid indulging and drinking more. Alcohol kept her mind unfocused and their voices far.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theresa shrugged and texted her mother to say she would sleep at a friend’s. She had her bag in her car and she could borrow Leah’s clothes, no issue in it. The next day would be Friday and she had had her fair share of hangovers to know she would survive. Her school peers left soon enough, sparing her a worried glance she was too busy to notice, and she was surrounded by the boys and Leah. Heat traveling her body, she smiled. Another sip and she felt like laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, how it works, being the only chick in the group?” She smiled lazily at them. “To keep things in order you play though, or you just watch them embarrass themselves and laugh at it?” Her eyes flickered to Quil and Embry, she thought that was their names, who were wrestling on the sand. Jacob was near them, cheering and instructing as if it was a real match. Theresa shared a log with Paul, and Leah sat with Sam in another one close to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am tough, please.” She flashed her long eyelashes at Theresa. “I even saw Paul making out and I didn’t puke. But it was a close call if I am honest.” Sam threw a twig at the said boy and laughed at his girlfriend's disgusted expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were envious because your boyfriend will never be as manly as I am.” He touched his chin while making a face. “So handsome, don’t you agree, Tessa?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve seen better.” She smiled through the dizziness. “But you are quite good looking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good looking? Did you hear what she said? I am fucking dashing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can say he looks like a dumpster and he’ll still hear a compliment, Tessa. Don’t fret.” Sam spoke and she knew protesting about the shortened version of her name would be useless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam had an arm around his girlfriend, an easy smile hanging on his lips and a bottle in his hands. He had an air of authority she couldn’t quite understand, with his bulky body and long hair. Leah's presence softened it, though. Her sharp eyes and lean frame against his brought some softness to the harsh air of his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Theresa felt the conversation and the laugh washing over her and she was peaceful. Head tilted against the other boy’s arm; she watched the fire flickering. The heat involved her body for once and she closed her eyes for a few minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a devil may care attitude of yours, I can see. C’mon, tell me, are you the tough type or the soft one?” Leah's words started to slur, and Theresa blinked and forced her brain to work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides being Paul’s type, which anyone is counted by breathing, I am not sure I am tough.” She was, but her examples involved the dead. “But I have a strong stomach.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leah urged her for details and Paul’s arm enveloped her shoulders, his heat warming her on the inside. Head on his shoulder, she inhaled the smoke and salty air and the faint smell of his cologne. She was getting drunk; she knew it when she looked at the stars that peaked under the clouds and they danced back at her. Forcing her eyes to focus, she looked at the other girl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, once I caught my best friend with two girls who I was friends with, listen closely, on my bed.” Theresa couldn’t help but giggle at their scandalized faces. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But your bed?” Leah blinked. “Why your bed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wanted privacy and his parents were home, so one thing led to another. It didn’t lead to warning me about it, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But two girls?” Paul looked down at her face, perplexed by the possibility. Sam was simply horrified. She had forgotten about the small-town mentality, but the wine made the awkwardness irrelevant to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can even understand how he convinced them if I am honest, but how he managed to tell them my bed was the best place to fool around with a straight face is beyond me.” She shook her head and sipped a bit more of the wine. A bit dizzy but still functional, she felt Paul pulling her against him, her shoulder against his chest, his body encircling hers. He could easily lift her into his lap. Face heating, she tried to disperse the thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you can understand the appeal, do you think you could be convinced to do something like that?” With voice low and long lashes dusting his cheeks and dark, dark eyes, Paul was beautiful. A bold hand on her shoulder hovered her cleavage and she wanted to say yes and slip into a secluded place until they were satisfied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am easy to convince. But would you be able to go around Leah?” She stole a glance at the other girl, who was watching them with a frown. Maybe Theresa appeared drunker than she was, or Leah was too drunk to make an accurate judgment. “Nah. No taking away Tessa. The first girl I feel like talking to, you won’t lock her away in your room.” She was glaring and Sam laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s getting late and you aren’t getting sober. Time to take you all home.” He stood up and sent a reproachful look at Paul before turning to talk to Leah. Theresa realized the younger teens were long gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paul helped her to stand and held her closer when she stumbled. Strong arms and hot breath fanning against her face, she felt once again heat pooling inside her. Anticipation building, he hugged her goodbye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the feeling of his hands high on her ribs, burning even through her jacket and pulling her closer, she gave in and tilted her head, meeting his expecting eyes. On her toes, tainted lips hovered his jaw before closing the space between their bodies. Lost in his heat, in the sensation of his hard body against her soft one, she rested her head on his shoulders with lips on his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A deep breath and a small touch had him shivering. When her lips glided over his neck to close in a small peck, his body went tense and she felt his pressure against her hips. Smiling against the hot sensitive skin, her tongue flickered, and she tasted him in her mouth. Paul's hands were almost hurtful and he outright trembled. She lingered, breathing him in, before leaving his embrace. His eyes were still aflame when she got in the waiting car.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter we'll have a peek of Bella's vision and the rest is all Jasper. Thank you for taking your time and leaving a comment.. It gets me excited to write! And please don't kill me, there's a slow burn tag here for a reason, but I swear things are going to progress (a little) soon enough!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. What you are willing to give</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bella tries to keep lunch enjoyable and Jasper goes one step too far. Again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't like Bella or Edward bashing, but I also don't think much of them. She's a self-absorbed teenager, but who wasn't? Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bella Swan woke up to see the most beautiful man she had ever met sitting by her desk. In his casual stance, styled auburn hair and crossed long legs, he was stunning. Sometimes she wondered if it was all a dream. She was no fool. There were so many prettier and smarter girls around, and yet he wanted her. Wanted her body, blood, and heart. Edward Cullen desired her and sometimes she didn’t know what to do about it. </p><p>His secret, or his antisocial family, or his dark past were all insignificant. She had met him a few months ago when she moved but only got to truly know him in the past weeks. Yet, she would die for him. Her dazed mind was still able to notice it, though, how her whole world had shifted into orbiting him, and how her every breath was taken more fully only when around Edward.</p><p>He smiled and her head went blank for a few seconds. “You were tired last night.” In a blink of her eyes, he was sitting right beside her. He bent to kiss her forehead and she wondered if he could smell her breath even with her mouth closed. </p><p>They – or she did, at least – got ready and went inside his Volvo. He kept a caring hand on her knee, and she fought against the urge to move her leg. She didn’t want to shift only to make him move away and her anxiety was creeping in. Worrying her lower lip, she thought if he would like it if she convinced Theresa to lunch with them again. The disaster from a few days ago was still fresh in her memories and every time the girl turned to talk to her, Bella would trip on her own words.</p><p>She felt guilty for calling Theresa to eat with them only to for the girl to be so blatantly ignored. More so after making all of them notice the white scar running her wrist. She was aware of people who hurt themselves or even attempt suicide, but she also knew there was a perverted side of the world she only caught glimpses of. Bella couldn’t know if the girl was lying or if she just enjoyed having sex in a dirty way. </p><p>However, to expose Theresa to all vampires was harsh, because even if they were good, and had pure intentions with them, they still held the higher ground. Edward could read her mind and see all her secrets, while Jasper could control emotions, and Alice would glimpse her future. Bella was unreadable according to Edward. But Theresa? She was completely naked. And Bella was guiding her into a world straight out from fairy tales.</p><p>The absence of his hand on her leg made her notice they had arrived. Parked next to Emmet’s Jeep, Edward opened her door and helped her out. The family was there. Rosalie tightened her jaw and looked away and Bella tried to keep herself from flinching. Emmet just nodded his head with a grin and Jasper didn’t move at all. Alice, however, danced toward her. Bright eyes and a large smile, the short vampire hugged her hello. </p><p>Across the parking lot, she saw her other friends laughing and Theresa arriving. She was wearing a large red shirt under her dark jacket. It wasn’t the first time she saw her wearing masculine clothes, but she still heard Tyler whistling. Lost, she caught Edward’s golden eyes. He enjoyed explaining people’s motivation.</p><p>“They want to know if she spent the night with a guy in the Reserve.” He was frowning while trying to put the pieces of gossip together for her benefit. “She seems to have slept there, at least.”</p><p>“Isn’t easier to just read her mind to see what happened?” Bella was more interested in why her boyfriend picked information from the students instead of just delving into the other girl’s mind. A part of her instantly regrated, though, as she pictured Edward watching Theresa musings about whatever she did last night. </p><p>“He can’t.” She was sure that was the first time Jasper talked to her. His eyes were still lost, but there was a secretive tilt of lips and he seemed to find joy in what was happening.</p><p>“I can. It just sounds like rubbish and my head almost hurts trying to pick any sense.” He held her closer. She wondered if that’s why they were so interested in Theresa. If that was why they were so interested in her too. But in truth, they weren’t.</p><p>Edward and Alice were the ones who cared. Bella still had to meet Dr. Cullen and Esme, but the rest of the family pretty much shunned her out. Jasper had talked to Theresa, though, and she had heard gossip about the new student and Emmet lunching in the courtyard. Jealousy gripping her guts, she tried to think about Edward, his pretty hands, his stiff yet full mouth, and attentive golden eyes. Bella didn’t like the idea of them picking humans by their abilities. She hated to realize that if what made her a unique human was their presence in her life, then she may not be special at all.</p><p>Watching Theresa laugh at a distance, she forced her body against Edward’s. She was prettier, taller, talented, if vulgar. In a world where Bella needed vampires to shine, Theresa shined just fine on her own. </p><p>At least she never slept in the Reserve and made a walk of shame into the school. </p><p>Trying to control the insecure thoughts in her mind, she was relieved Edward was unable to understand what caused her distress. Then, she remembered Jasper and his gift. Lifting her head, she saw he was already staring at her, mocking eyes glinting.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They sat together at the lunch again. This time, Theresa had pasta instead of just an apple. Bella was still bothered by the attention the vampires would give her. During their shared intervals they sat with the rest of the humans and Theresa talked almost nothing, only sarcastic comments, and answers to some of the questions the girls had. Yet, Lauren didn’t seem fazed with the apparent dismissal. Jessica would send her few glares, but the rest of them had accepted Theresa as an introverted as they never did with Bella. For them, Bella still was the new girl. Angela told her it was because of her shyness while Mike said it was because she looked pretty blushing. </p><p>In a class they shared, Jessica apologized for being rude on the day before and they walked together. Bella still felt awkward with all the attention she received, but it was nice to be important, even if it made her even more self-conscious. Despite thinking of herself above it, she was just one more teenager with a delicate self-steam. </p><p>She took a bite of her pizza and let the silence of the table wash over her nerves. At least she was with Edward. Theresa was alone between strangers. “Did you enjoy the Rez?”, she asked.</p><p>“Yeah. Pretty gloomy like all Forks is, but nice enough. Jake asked about you, but it seems going out with a Cullen – or being a Cullen – doesn’t match with visiting them.” The girl answered. She had her long hair arranged on a high ponytail. Reddish locks dancing over her back, the color clashed against the shade of red of her borrowed shirt. Still, she looked pretty with her childish face and languid grey eyes. With the same indolent smile, she always carried, she shifted to peek at Jasper through her long eyelashes. </p><p>“It’s a mix of prejudice and old Quileute legends. You really shouldn’t bother with it.” Bella wasn’t sure who she was protecting. The vampires and their secret or Theresa from getting involved in something dangerous.</p><p>“If you say so.” She shrugged her off as she had done with Rosalie. </p><p>“Jake is a great guy, but I heard Paul can be a troublemaker.” Theresa turned to stare at her with a blank face “I just wanted to ask you to be careful, he has quite a reputation.” Jessica had told her how cozy they had been on the day before, and how she drank with them and slept there. She told her more, about how Theresa could be with Paul or even Sam, but she knew it was mostly speculation. </p><p>“Thanks, I suppose, but I still don’t see how this could be relevant.” She had her chin up and a challenging smile painted on her mouth. Bella’s cheeks burned and she regrated saying anything, but she could feel the eyes of all vampires on them and she felt obliged to make a point, even if it would damage their perception of Theresa. Although they could hear people gossiping about her, so it wouldn’t be news.</p><p>“It’s just… He won’t take you seriously.” Bella swallowed and continued “Neither will the rest of the guys. Forks is a very small town. People’s talking already.” Her breath was stuck on her throat, but she couldn’t stop talking. “I know it’s not true but staying the night there right after meeting them is, uh, scandalous for a small town. You should beware, that’s all.” </p><p>“Bella, in this short time we know each other, I have to ask you: did you ever see me taking someone seriously?” Then she snorted, and her smile was deceptively sweet “Anyway, I will say to you the same I told Jessica earlier about my sex life. That is, it’s mine. Gossip mill aside, you are all welcome to mask your prude opinions with worry, but, please, keep it to yourself. I don’t accept moral judgment disguised of advice.” She stole a glimpse at the Cullens before adding “Not of <em> you </em> at, least.” </p><p>Bella had her mouth open. She should say something, apologize? Or insist she was saying it by the goodness of her heart? It was common sense. You don’t go around sleeping with guys. She wasn’t a prude. She just believed in sex with someone you loved and trusted. And Theresa would build a bad reputation if she continued like this.</p><p>Still, she had brought a delicate subject in front of the vampires. Emmet let out a howl of a laugh while Rosalie glared “Sorry, sorry, just refreshing to hear a rant in defense of casual sex.”</p><p>“Not casual sex, just the freedom to make your own choices, you brute.” Rosalie snapped, although the corner of her lips was lifted in a fond smile.</p><p>She closed her gaping mouth and tried to think of something to say. Jasper looked amused while Alice was frowning. Edward was sullen and uncommunicative, but he had a supportive hand on her knee. The table quieted down again.</p><p>Theresa was unbothered by the silence. Eating her pasta and mumbling under her breath about <em> fucking hypocrites </em>  and  <em> fucking cheap wine </em>, she was indifferent to the rest of them. Bella wondered why she even accepted to sit there. She also realized the teenager was speaking the truth. Bella never saw her treating anything as important or even getting involved with any subject.</p><p>Torn between jealously – she would love to be that detached of situations – and curiosity. She spoke again “Is there an ethic code or religion you follow?” </p><p>Theresa was amused for an instant, chuckling and shaking her head “Oh, no, for God’s sake, I couldn’t be anything less than a skeptic. But maybe some would say I’m a hedonist.” </p><p>“Pleasure as the path for happiness?” Jasper hummed.</p><p>“Like Lord Henry,” Bella whispered, reminded of The picture of Dorian Gray. It made sense, she thought, looking at Theresa’s heavy-lidded grey eyes. </p><p>Theresa was opening her mouth to add something when she froze, hands closed in tight fists. Just like the day she had had lunch with them, Bella became worried. Something was wrong.</p><p>Theresa opened her bag and took out two pills. Swallowing them with water, she pushed her plate away from her and started organizing her stuff.</p><p>“Are you ok? You didn’t even finish.” The words escaped her, but Bella didn’t regret it. They were still eating.</p><p>“Fine. Just lost my appetite.” Bella looked at her with imploring eyes. She may have had a divided opinion on the new girl, but she was at least someone to chat within a table in which the majority ignored her. “We’re mostly the only ones who talk, anyways. Maybe they have a fetish with watching you eat, Bella. Be careful, will you? Did you ever catch any of them watching you sleep? Or any other stalking activity?” She smiled thinly with haughty eyes staring straight through Bella, unwavering even when Emmet cackled, Rosalie snickered and Jasper laughed, a sound deep and rough that Bella had never heard. She choked with her saliva and glanced at her boyfriend who the face was blanched. </p><p>She couldn’t avoid shame painting her face red. Edward loved to watch her sleeping, and the stalker behavior had saved her in Port Angeles before. Yet, she felt mocked by Theresa and all the other vampires. </p><p>Theresa stood up with her bag over her shoulder. “Just going for a smoke, see you in class.” Bella nodded but felt like choking again when Jasper pushed his food away and got up, eyes glued on her. She knew he was the more unstable and fear shot through her veins. Would he attack Theresa? She touched Edward’s shoulder, begging for help.</p><p>“And where are you going?” Words bordered rudeness, but the tilt of her mouth made her face soft under the lights of the cafeteria. She was pale, but the bruises under her eyes were gone and she seemed healthier than last time they lunched with the Cullens. </p><p>“Goin' to keep you company, of course.” He shot back, strolling toward her. Bella had never seen so much life on him and it was almost intimidating. Tall and scary, Jasper looked every inch as the cruel creature she always pictured vampires to be.</p><p>“I thought you said something about it stinking.” She tapped at the box of cigarette poking from her jeans. He just smiled at her, turning his face younger and painfully beautiful in a way she wasn’t aware he could. Jasper reminded Bella of a fallen angel in old paintings, with the corrupted innocence and merciless eyes. “I remember of you agreeing before stomping off.” His voice was low, and maybe that should be a private conversation. Bella wasn’t even aware they had ever talked. </p><p>But Theresa never forgot her audience, as she turned to look at the Cullens. “I don’t know how bad you are compared to your siblings, but I am quite sure I pulled the shortest stick. No wonder it feels safer sitting with five than staying alone with one.” She rolled her eyes and snorted at his nonchalant expression. “Just don’t try to play with my fucking emotions again just because I am having a laugh at your expense and I think we will be fine.”</p><p>“As you wish, ma’am.” Jasper tilted his head to her and followed close behind when Theresa walked away. None of them glanced back.</p><p>Rosalie had her jaw slack and Emmet was laughing again. </p><p>“Did you <em> saw  </em>her recognizing his gift, Alice?” Edward had an arm around Bella, but his focus was on the pixie. When she told him that no, she didn’t, he cursed under his breath. “She knows even more, now. Not sure when we should stop poking around and start damage control.” </p><p>Rosalie hissed too fast for Bella to understand, but as the blond glanced at her, she was aware this was probably a conversation the family didn’t want her to hear. With her right hand supporting her head, she looked at the doors leading to the courtyard and hoped Theresa would be okay. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Jasper walked the familiar path to the courtyard. He still felt the curiosity, angst, and lust – so common between teenagers – hanging somewhere inside his mind. His siblings and their confusion could also be dealt with at a later date. Fresh air on his face and he was free from the stiffening hunger he had to deal with when around Bella and Edward.</p><p>Theresa was fighting against the wind to light her cigarette. Leaning against the bricks and protected by the roof against the rain, Jasper could see she was shaking. He fancied thinking she was nervous being around him. Two steps and he was in her personal space, hands around hers to keep the flame on. She mumbled thanks and closed her eyes, enjoying the chemical reaction in her veins or the psychological comfort the action brought her. </p><p>Head tilted back and elegant neck exposed, Theresa was almost too pretty. Her hair blowing around them and she could be peaceful with her opened mouth and deep breathing. Jasper tried to picture her against the covers, malicious energy stolen by tiredness, and bright hair spilling over her pillow. But her brows were furrowed, and she was concentrating too deeply. Realization struck him.</p><p>“Are you in pain?” She told him about migraines, and he wondered if all humans looked this fragile or if she was an exception. Theresa peeked at him from beneath a slightly open eyelid and laughed. “Besides pretty, am I now amusing?” He intended it to sound ominous or at least lining into threatening. Yet, he knew his voice was friendly or his stance too passive, because she laughed more before answering. </p><p>“Amusing? No doubt.” Her smile died a bit then. “Unstable? I hope so.” He cocked his eyebrows at her, attention picked. </p><p>“Don’t look at me like that, I think is only fair to hope for inconsistency, when the opposite would involve you trying to mind control me through emotions all the time.” </p><p>“Are you still upset about it?” She just shook her head and closed her eyes again. She was hurting, and it wasn’t getting better. He knew sometimes you need to lose territory before throwing an aggressive attack, so he allowed her the silence. He would let her have a less sharp part of him if only to make it easier to gain her trust later on.</p><p>Despite the coarse talks and lewd jokes, he could taste it in her scent, now so close to him. Smoke, salt, the bitterness of alcohol mixed with soap and unfamiliar traces of other people. Maybe the owner of the red shirt or somebody she had been rather close with? But it was faint, hanging around the edges and not overly present. The knowledge she hadn’t indulged in another’s bed was surprisingly comforting. </p><p>Jasper tried to send her waves of calm, soft, and warm willing her muscles to relax so she could feel better. Grey eyes assessed him again before deciding this sort of influence okay, so she smiled, something shy and small, and so <em> grateful </em> it hurt. </p><p>Theresa shouldn’t let her guard down, nor she should trust him or any of his siblings. However, Jasper was glad he could stay beside her when she looked so small and lost.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>No tree near her window and he couldn’t peek at her sleeping form. The vampire remembered of her little speech about stalking behaviors and grinned. It was amusing to watch as she mocked around with an accuracy she couldn’t know she had. She was able to pick small signs to compose a tirade, but not enough to understand what they were. Or maybe she just didn’t want to know the truth. Only enough glimpses to joke about.</p><p>But they needed her to know, and not by telling her if possible. Bella, boring Bella, had been able to put things together and relieve Edward of going against the Volturi by explaining it to her. Of course, he still wronged them by leaving her as human as it was, but Jasper wouldn’t hesitate if he was in his shoes. </p><p>Theresa, sharper and with advantages he could only dream of, refused to the same as the other human, though.</p><p>Wasn’t she curious? Was her life so out of the curve that accepting nonliving creatures with unknown powers was just lunchtime? Facing her bedroom window from afar, Jasper closed his eyes and listened to her steady heartbeat. </p><p>Fuckin’ unfair if someone asked him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He knew they were having a family meeting just by the silence in the houses when he arrived. Walking at his normal speed, he didn’t try to fake surprise at the six expecting faces sitting in front of him. Alice touched the chair at her right, calling him closer. Face blank, he forced his mind into a state of calm, a river of constant thoughts about his past, glimpses of Maria – that always chased Edward away, the bloodier the merrier – and bitter remarks about their lives. </p><p>Edward was angry. There was also an undertone of fear in the air, the same most of them had when they knew they done something to displease him. He sat down and ignored Alice's anxious state and left the rest of the family to be torn between tension and annoyance. </p><p>Not Esme or Carlisle, though. She was sad, and he was disappointed. You can wrong him one hundred times and he will forgive you one hundred plus one, old enough to be smart about it and punish you with kind eyes. Jasper wanted to snarl away from them, but he kept his stare steady and posture open. Waiting.</p><p>“You used your gift on a human?” Edward, always the hypocrite, asked. So that was the problem, what Theresa spoke near the table. Jasper nodded. No gain in adding details to dirt himself more on their eyes.</p><p>“And you got caught?” Rosalie wasn’t disappointed, per se, she was confused. Jasper had influenced the whole coven on occasion without them even realizing it. It was about all about not forcing something unnatural and keeping it subtle. Not with Theresa, though. He wanted her to see him, to notice he had power over her at that moment. Proud and mighty, her dismissal got under his skin and he had a point to prove.</p><p>Although he felt no need to explain himself to Rosalie, her eyes held hope and expectation. She had been defending him against the family, he knew. The blonde would be crushed if she realized how his actions could be rationalized to fit into a plan, yes, but the root, the reason behind the family interest in another human was Jasper and his interrupted hunt of her. Echoing nonstop under his eyelids, venom pooling in his mouth, he knew he wouldn’t stop short of his lips against her throat. Yet, there was no time for confessions, so he abstained from playing with their feelings and answered.</p><p>“I tried to make her less apathetic when we talked the first time, so it would be easier to pick on what she knew. She showed awareness something was off, so I needed to see if she was somewhat immune.” Edward had wide eyes, then. No one was immune to Jasper. They could acknowledge the mood swing as his responsibility, but not fight it off. Not when he was set in controlling it. </p><p>“Later on, I had her under a wave of emotion strong enough to bring a vampire into their knees. She wasn’t immune, but she shrugged it off completely after a few seconds.” Leaving them to wonder about her abilities – without mentioning how he had induced and amplified the lust she was already feeling – he had them out of their tracks. Almost done, Jasper inflated the irritation Edward was feeling while raising the trust Emmet felt on him.</p><p>He had to be smart about it, but no reunion ever went out of his way since he got the hang of it and, of course, was interested enough to shake off his usual lethargy. Keep Edward far from his mind, create a diversion, and then a petty argument to occupy Carlisle, and Jasper would be out of the hook. </p><p>Edward snarled, trying to control himself while staring at Jasper. “That’s your excuse? Risk our stay here just to test your gift on a human?”</p><p>“You use yours with us all the time, Ed.” Emmet snapped back. </p><p>“I can’t exactly tune it off, can I?” He sneered at the other vampire and Rosalie growled in defense of her mate.</p><p>“Yet you were quite alright about risking the family to obsess and stalk your singer only because she challenged you, huh?” The blonde vampire had eyes dark with anger. </p><p>“He’s hunting her. Jasper is hunting the human, Rose.” He stood up and where his hands touched the wooden table cracks emerged. “I saw it. You did too, Alice, tell them.”</p><p>Alice just shook her head. Her glimpses weren’t clear enough, and she couldn’t be sure. But Edward was sure. Not because of Jasper’s sickening words toward humans. No, the truth was simple. The Major was impassive. </p><p>“You see her as a weapon. I know it.” The coven was silent. Jasper’s past was a sore topic, maybe because it had lasted longer than he had been a Cullen. Or maybe it was the reminder of how tenuous his presence was, with his connection with Alice thinning and a prime reason to stay turning into nothing. Rosalie had jumped into her feet and Emmet followed suit. Esme was distressed and melancholic and so, so tired. </p><p>Only then, he got up. Movements slow as a human, the Major was cold, every movement was controlled. Eyes golden - he knew he still had them – facing the dark glare of a spoiled brat. They were almost there.</p><p>“You don’t understand?” Edward's temper tantrum escalated, as he shook his hands and glowered. “He’s still living in a war inside his head and Bella – sweet and innocent Bella – will get hurt because of him. Because he can’t control himself, because he puts the family in danger because he’s too damned and you all know it too!” Edward wasn’t screaming, but it was near enough to make them all cautious.</p><p>Bella was Edward’s motivation. And Jasper would always be a threat, with his careless thoughts and constant hunger. Goes without saying that most of the uncontrollable thirst he felt when around her was from all the others plus Edward.</p><p>Eyes brimming with venom, he turned his – very sensible, actually – concerns about Jasper’s behavior into ashes when losing control of himself and bringing the past to the table. The coven stared in shock, and in a blink of eyes Carlisle had a hand on the younger vampire shoulder “Enough, son.”</p><p>Only then the Major allowed anger to fill him and turn his eyes dark. Tensed body and low growl, he felt Rosalie step closer to him. Slow steps, though, she knew he could be unpredictable. </p><p>He wanted Edward to attack him verbally, he needed the crumbling of any second thoughts they could have about his intentions with Theresa. More importantly, he needed space to move and to plan, and the Cullens would gladly give it to him after he was – so unfairly – reminded of his upbringing. </p><p>But the anger he felt burned true because only as Jasper Hale he would allow himself to be berated by a sullen boy. Yet, the Cullens loved a good redemption arc, and he loved the comfort of a coven. Turning his back at them was only hard because it felt wrong to keep potential foes out of sight.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Hunting was hardly a good way to deal with the situation he – almost by himself, too – pulled, but he knew his presence could be difficult to deal with when his personas were clashing, and the harshness of his years fuelled his emotions. Jasper was dangerous and unstable, to human and vampire alike, they knew. </p><p>Yet, he was being followed. </p><p>In a last-second decision, he pushed himself against a tree and threw his arm against Alice. With a move of shoulders, she was on the floor. Her mouth opened and breathing hard, she rehearsed the human reactions she had learned. Chest moving up and down against his knee, she presented no struggle when his hand surrounded her neck. </p><p>“Look at me, Jasper.” Her words were soft and when he found her golden eyes, bright with worry, <em> worry </em>, and not fear, he was reminded of the day they met. The day she told him about a life of love, of happiness, of companionship. It wasn’t the words or the gift or the pretty face, it was the hope she exuded. She was so full of faith and he was so ruined, so destroyed, living of machinations against invisible enemies and yet, she believed in him. In them. </p><p>Jasper pushed himself up and helped her along the way. He hadn’t run because he wanted to prove himself civilized. He did it because he was scared of the realization he was obsessed. How easy had been to manipulate the whole family on a whim, and how he felt no guilt. He was awake, facing himself for the first time in decades, and what he saw was a hunter. </p><p>Taking his time, rehearsing speeches, and hovering around his prey with his coven blessing. Theresa was the cause, the reason, and the consequence. He wanted her and would burn the world to the ground to get her. And he couldn’t find in himself space to be sorry.</p><p>So, he let Alice push him against the bark, watching her focused face through half-lidded eyes and tilted head until she couldn’t keep the distance between them. Her lips were warm against his and her fingers were sharp on his back. Her lust calling his own, she crawled over him, legs around his waist, and begging mouth on his neck. He complied.</p><p>After they were done, staring at a clouded sky, Jasper wondered why she wasn’t enough. Why they were never enough and would never be, either. Their incomplete mate bound hanging over them like a death sentence, Alice stared at her world of possibilities while Jasper thought about Theresa and the price he was willing to pay for her, what, blood? Or was it for her gift? Or worse than all, he thought, for her company.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm playing with the line over Jasper's character, I know. Warn me if you think he's too dark (although I do plan to make it a little worse). Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. When love is enough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theresa spends part of the weekend in the Reserve and Jasper makes a decision.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's a quite long chapter (to my standards). Hope you'll enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Theresa was in a good mood. She enjoyed hanging out with Leah, Sam, and Paul. It had been quite refreshing and she felt less smothered for a few hours. The gossip mill of Forks High School could blow itself for all she cared. Theresa laughed alone when she saw the borrowed red shirt on the floor of her room.</p><p>She had crashed in Leah’s couch, that night, and was awakened not by the sun and not by her ghosts, but by the weight of someone stare on the nape of her neck. She turned to face the intruder, head pounding, and eyes burning. Her stomach hurt too. </p><p>Covering her eyes with a hand, she forced herself to look through the space between her fingers, cursing the light, she saw a young teenage boy. All thin limbs and awkward heigh, he had dark hair and brown eyes. She turned her back to him and buried herself in the blanket with a groan.</p><p>“Hey! Who are you?” His loud voice shook her from sleep, and she hissed back “Theresa, and can you talk without screaming?!”</p><p>“Yeah, but what are you doing on my couch?” She felt as if someone was kicking her head.</p><p>“Leah’s friend. She offered me the couch for the night.”</p><p>“Night’s over, the sun is out, and Leah’s still passed out on the bed. Time to go home!” He shook her shoulder and she wanted to cry. Instead, she sat down and tried to keep her eyes from closing again. </p><p>Spying at the clock, she quickly pushed her strawberry hair away. Theresa still needed a ride to get to her car. Cursing aloud, she got up and started to search for her jeans. The boy stood next to her, mouth agape, staring at her black underwear. She laughed, adjusting her dark shirt over her torso.</p><p>“Hey, kiddo, can you lend me a shirt? Long-sleeved, pretty please?” He nodded at her, blinking when she smiled. Theresa sent a quick text to Paul, asking for a ride. The boy ran back from his room and gave her a red shirt. “Thanks, loudmouth!”</p><p>“My name’s Seth, not loudmouth!” He was pouting, cheeks red, and dark hair mussed after she rumpled it with a quick sweep of a hand. </p><p>“Ok, Seth, where’s the bathroom?” He pointed a door in the small corridor, and she went for a quick shower. She hated the smell of alcohol permeating her skin with the hungover, or the bitter taste on her tongue.</p><p>Running out in his shirt and her underwear, she heard a distant voice, rough with sleep, saying “Stop flashing my brother, Tessa” but she all but ignored when chasing her jeans under the couch. </p><p>Seth was leaning against the wall while she got ready. Then he gave her a once over and said, “You are a mess.” She just laughed and stole a toast from a plate she supposed was his before thanking him and running outside.</p><p>Paul had been nice to her, laughing at the shirt he definitely recognized. “Why aren’t you wearing Leah’s clothes?”</p><p>“She’s still dead to the world, mostly.” She laughed when he tugged her new shirt. “I kinda expected you would too.”</p><p>“Nah, school to go. Leah’s the lazy one.” He got on his motorcycle and she sat behind him, arms around his waist. When they got to her parked car, he laughed at her again “Wet hair, different clothes and hungover, you’re going to be the talk of the school.”</p><p>She tutted “I don’t really mind, but I like it better when the gossip is fair.” A few steps closer to him “They can talk all they want if I did had fun.” He had his hands on her waist, eyes glued on her mouth. “And did you had fun?” he asked.</p><p>“Not nearly enough.” And she gave his cheek a quick peck before going to her car. “You should come tomorrow. We are going to watch movies at Clearwater’s and… Well, it would be nice if you passed by.” She said she would think about it and left.</p><p>Theresa smiled at the memory. She liked them, even the little brat.</p><p>Then later on she had her little lunchtime with the Cullen. A busy Friday, it had been. Hale had been actually… nice with her. He didn’t need to help her with the pain, but he did. And with no manipulation or pressure, he did it just because he wanted.</p><p>He wanted her to feel better. The idea sounded foreign, so she dismissed the thought.</p><p>Saturday and she would go to the Reserve again. Theresa smiled and started to get ready. </p><p><em> “Teenage love, beautiful, isn’t it?” </em> Ethan sang. </p><p><em> “The word you’re searching is disgusting and is not accurate either.” </em> Sofia shot back.</p><p>“Can you both stop? Just happy to go out a little, can’t I?” One more reason to drink herself into oblivion.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She sat beside Leah on the ground. She had arrived early, and they went for a walk. They were in a small clearing facing a cliff. Waves against rocks, she could hear the turmoil in the wind. Legs hanging, she threw a stick down and tried to picture the moment it would hit the water. Leah had her knees next to hers but was laid back, facing the clouds.</p><p>“Have you ever fallen in love?” Her voice was low, and Theresa followed her to the dirt.</p><p>“Yeah. Once.” Theresa felt a slip of energy stolen and the weight of Ethan’s hand on her leg.</p><p>“I knew I was in love a few years ago when Sam sat beside me in a class. It was like my whole body could do nothing but be aware of him, of the distance between us. I thought I could watch him during days and nights, without tiring. But I was only sure when I saw him crying for the first time. To see a fortress of a man so vulnerable, so fragile. It only made me love him more.” She spoke slowly as if her words were part of a daydream and Theresa was just a reflex in the mirror.</p><p>She noticed she was speaking before deciding to do so “I knew I was in love when he found me in a party, just the shell of a person, and took me home. He bathed me, gave me his shirt, and held me to sleep. When I was awakened by nightmares, crying, and trashing, he offered me a cigarette and a hand to destroy whoever had hurt me.” She had been too young and in the path of self-destruction and Ethan had floored her “I knew I loved him when I showed my worst and he proved himself even more of an ass, and I was ok with it. When he took everything I loved and turned into ashes, I knew I loved him because I couldn’t let him go.”</p><p>Leah didn’t question her. She took the silence and said after a cold breeze swept them “It's so strange. I'm happy and Sam's happy, and nothing else seems to matter. I am not romantic, you see, but I dream of the day we will marry” she turned to look a Theresa “he proposed a few weeks ago. We are leaving, Theresa. I never liked La Push and never did him. But we like each other, no, we love each other.”</p><p>“That’s the first time I tell someone else about it, I think it’s easier because you’re an outsider,” Leah added. "People have expectations of us building a life in here, in the Reserve. My dad's so traditional that he wanted my mom to quit her job in the hospital because of some old legend about the Cullens. I can't stand it. We'll be gone, me and Sam, I think, before the year's over." </p><p>Thresa took in her face, bright eyes and dry lips “I’m happy for you, Leah, I truly am.” She turned to look at the sky. <em> As I am afraid. Love is not enough, sometimes, and in others is enough only to destroy you </em>. The words she would never say filled the space between them, and Theresa closed her eyes, feeling Ethan’s presence on the back of her mind. Always there, the worst part of her bonding with the worst of him.</p><p>But Theresa refused to dive into those thoughts. She stood up, leaving a lost Leah to her daydreams, and stared at the dark forest in front of her. Bright green, dark brown, shadows, and distant sounds. It was too much information and for a few seconds, she thought she had seen someone. A misplaced shade again and she wondered if there was the echo of someone trying to become a ghost.</p><p>But she didn’t <em> feel </em> like it was. Her fingers didn’t tingle, and her mind remained the same. Yet, she could feel someone watching her. Afraid. Theresa was afraid. One more chill and she turned in sharp steps and shook her friend’s shoulder “I think it's time for us to go.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sitting beside Leah and Sam on the couch, she had one leg over the sofa arm and the other over Paul’s chest. He had his head turned up to look at her, and she gave him a mocking kick with the heel of her foot. He just held her ankle and laughed. </p><p>They were watching a horror movie when he had the idea of pulling her down. She screamed and Leah hit his shoulder in her defense. She could hear Seth talking to someone on the phone inside his room. She got up to make more one batch of popcorn while Paul tried to defend himself from Leah’s hand. </p><p>Harry Clearwater, the father as she had learned, was out fishing. The mother, Sue was covering a shift in the hospital. Theresa wondered if she had met her mom and if yes if they were friends.</p><p>She avoided getting too close to her mom. Anne was perceptive and while she respected Theresa and her moods, she would try to meddle if she found the scars or the historic behind. Her mother, though, was independent enough to no be offended by her daughter’s slippery nature.</p><p>Watching the microwave’s plate turn, she leaned against the counter. Sam walked in, twisting around her to put a glass in the sink. His skin touched her covered arm and Theresa jumped, saying “You are so hot! Do you have a fever?” and sticking a hand on his forehead. </p><p>“I thought I was the hot one,” Paul said, half walking and half running from a laughing Leah. “Oh, you are, but I think Sam may be sick.”</p><p>Leah touched her fiancée them, brow furred with worry. “I think you’ve got a fever, are you feeling cold or tired?”</p><p>Sam frow deepened, then “I am alright.” He held an arm around Leah and kissed her hair “How could I not be ok when you’re around?” She smiled and hopped on the counter, bringing him into her embrace.</p><p>Theresa got the popcorn and run out of the kitchen before they started professing their undying love. Paul followed her like a puppy. She would sleep on the couch again, but she knew he expected her to go home with him. She smiled at his antics.</p><p>Paul threw himself on the couch, winking at her “Now we can sit together, scared cat.”</p><p>She put the bowl on the side table and jumped on him, attacking his ribs and laughing in delight when he yelped. Stradling Paul, she said, “Who’s scared cat now?” Brown eyes full of mischievous he answered “You” before squeezing her ass making her shriek in surprise again. </p><p>She squeaked again when he sat and gasped when he kissed her. His hot mouth moving against hers, and the muscles of his back flexed under her hands. Adjusting her positing, she felt his body tensing when she touched his neck with feather-like fingers. The soft scrap of a nail and she had him shivering. His hand, still with a firm grip of her bottom, made heat pool low in her belly.</p><p>Steps from the kitchen and he held her waist, indulging in the last handful of her body before relocating her to sit at his side. A quick movement with the blanket on his lap and the evidence of their doing was hidden from view. </p><p>She felt even hotter knowing the state he was in with just a playful kiss.</p><p>Leah stared at their innocent faces with a blank look, Sam just snorted before taking the place on the floor. They resumed the movie, but Theresa’s mind was a little too lost in the presence of the body next to her. </p><p>The movie ended, predictably, in a jump scare. She hated those and fought against screaming as a matter of honor. Head leaning in on the back of the couch, Theresa realized they all still had energy for more. Movies or something else? Walking? Hiking in the middle of the night seemed as pleasant as during the day, with the air heavy with humidity and the biting cold. </p><p>“Going to take a breath.” She said to her companions. Maybe she and Paul could have a little escapade, or she could discuss love with Leah, or accuse Sam of having a fever, or just laugh as if she wasn’t capable to bring their dead grannies for a chat. She just wanted to stand up for a bit.</p><p>Walking out of the house, Theresa felt cold and happy. She really liked them. Leaning against the wall of bricks, she fought against her cigarette. What a damned thing it was to light against the strong wind. She heard the door and the quicks steps. Leah’s shivering hands helped her with the lighter. Smiling in thanks, she took a drag and held it deep inside her lungs, appreciating the blooming reaction on her tired muscles.</p><p>“I guess I never asked your age, but I’m willing to bet it’s not legal.” Leah was tucked in the blanket, taking in the picture Theresa made. She could imagine; the messy long hair, tall and lean, with haunting eyes – Ethan always described her like that. She would rather be seen as the girl smoking at the corner. “I’m seventeen. And you? You are fresh out of high school, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, nineteen and Paul’s the youngest, his seventeen too.” </p><p>“So, what’s holding you back?” She gesticulated with her free hand. They were old enough to leave.</p><p>“Sam wants to do everything in a proper way. His father… wasn’t the greatest, so I guess he wants to make things different from him.” She looked at the Theresa for a second before smiling “We are still saving money, too. But I think even my dad will be happy when gets used to the idea.” </p><p>Theresa blew the smoke away before offering the cigarette to Leah “Have you ever tried?”</p><p>The Clearwater shook her head before taking it between her fingers and scowling at the odor. Hesitant, she took it to her lips “Do it slowly and hold it before blowing the smoke away’’ Theresa guided her.</p><p>Leah did as she said, just to cough uncontrollably later. Theresa laughed at her watery eyes “It’s always like that for the first time. C’mon, try again. You may feel lightheaded, though.”</p><p>“No shit this thing kills you in the end.” Leah breathed out before trying again. </p><p>“Destroy teeth, organs, and bones. Besides the fucked-up lungs and cancer on the horizon, is very relaxing.” Leah laughed at Theresa's nonchalant expression. She knew the consequences of her addiction and she open-heartedly accepted them, although only because she expected her death to come before any building chemicals could have a chance on it.</p><p>The door opened again. Sam glared at the cigarette Leah was holding “Why are you smoking? It stinks.”</p><p>The girl shrugged “Wanted to try.”</p><p>He stood in front of them in sweatpants and an opened jacket. Beads of sweat on his forehead and flared nostrils, Sam’s posture was hostile. Dark scowl in place, she felt like she was meeting a stranger. “You already tried, now put this out.”</p><p>“Hey, chill out, Sam. One shared cigarette won’t kill no one.” Theresa reacted fast when she saw Leah’s confused face. So, being rude and demanding wasn’t the rule. Better. <em> “There’s something wrong with him, Theresa. You should go inside.” </em> Ethan suggested.</p><p>“Shared, right? Of course, the thing is yours.” He spat the words, rolling his shoulders as if uncomfortable in his own body.</p><p>“Excuse me?” Again, she answered by instinct. She wondered if she should call Paul to calm him down. She felt mildly intimidated, but the man had shown himself such a big ted bear before that her mind still struggled to keep up. </p><p>“You know, Paul’s a good kid, he has a temper and maybe something of a reputation, but he likes you.” Now it was about Paul? What the fuck was his problem? “It would be kind of you to not behave as a slut, if that is possible.”</p><p>“Why are you speaking like this with her? What happened?” Leah’s eyes were huge and her voice high-pitched. <em> “He’s pissed, I think things can get physical. Not time for cheeky comments, I doubt Paul could hold this guy back.” </em> Sofia said as matter of fact.</p><p>The door opened again, Paul was with them and she had to force a sigh of relief back. He eyed Theresa, searching for a cue of whatever was happening. “I think we should go inside now, Leah. Sam clearly needs space now.”</p><p>He raised his hand, eyes on Leah’s offending fingers and cigarette, and for a moment she thought he would slap it. Instead, he held himself and took a step back, staring at his arm as if it scared the life out of him. “I’m sorry, I just…” Wide-eyed, he glared at the little tube “it smells so bad, I can feel it burning my throat.” In the end, his voice had regained some of the initial aggression.</p><p>Leah dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. She walked closer to him with forearms raised as in an offer of peace and said “Hey, handsome, look at me. I’m here, everything is okay.” Another step “I think you may be too feverish to be outside right now.”</p><p>She was right, he could be delirious. High fever could cause irritability, mental confusion, and delusions. Sam seemed to reach the same conclusion and promptly denied “I’m not sick. I just… I need to go home.”</p><p>“Ok, Sam, I will drive you there, c’mon,” Paul said, but she could see he was starting to get mad with the situation.</p><p>Sam nodded, giving a sloppy kiss of goodbye to Leah and an awkward nod to Theresa before walking to his car. “I’ll keep you updated,” Paul said unsure smile in the place of the usual charming one, before leaving for the driver’s seat. </p><p>They watched the car leave in silence, and Theresa felt something important had happened, even if she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Leah turned to her and tried to apologize for Sam’s behavior. “Don’t worry, let’s just get you inside and we can talk about it later.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sitting on the couch surrounded by the vestiges of them and the fun they had together within the messy pillows, forgotten glasses, lost bowls, and abundance of blankets, Theresa felt numb. She was reminded when as a child she touched a hot pan, of those short seconds between the tingling of the burn and the actual pain. She thought about that moment when she would take her fingers away and feel nothing, even if it was only for an instant. </p><p>But the pain would come, the consequences would arrive, and even if she only felt a funny tingle now, confused about whatever had just happened, Theresa still had the foreboding feeling that a line was crossed and there would be no turning back from it.</p><p>Beside her, sat Leah’s younger brother, Seth. It was late, but both of them kept a silent vigil of the bathroom door, where his sister had locked herself with the excuse of a never-ending shower. Playing with his hands, he finally spoke “What happened?”</p><p>“Life happened.” At his unimpressed glare, she added “Things got fucked up.”</p><p>“You mean someone messed up? Paul fought with Leah? Or Sam?” He tried again.</p><p>“When you put like this, as if when an asshole screws up, it leads to the distribution of blame and responsibilities.” She pointed around them. “What happened here, though? Illogical, without trigger or warning, it just fucked up as only life is able to do, leaving no one to blame but all a little guilty.”</p><p>“You really put thought into the crazy things you say.” Seth chuckled, even if the mood was still somber. </p><p>“Someone has to, loudmouth.” </p><p>“Seth, my name’s Seth. And where’s my shirt, by the way?”</p><p>“It’s on my bedroom's floor. And before you ask, after washing, it will go straight into my drawer.” He spluttered, red and confused. “Yes, I stole it. Call me a shirt thief and be done with it.”</p><p>"Even that isn’t yours?” He pointed at her Metallica shirt. Or Ethan’s.</p><p>“It is now.” She laughed at his scandalized face.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sunday afternoon she spent in bed. Paul had texted her, saying he had delivered a sick Sam to his mother’s caring hands. She laughed when he wrote about how they should meet alone next time. The hours of the night flew away while she drew them. A quick sketch of Sam, another of Paul on the couch, spread under her weight. The last one was Leah's.</p><p>It was of her profile, slightly open eyes gazing the cloudy sky and parted mouth. The long nose, full lips, and lifted chin made in careful lines. A few strands of long dark hair on her forehead. Her lowered lids and long lashes softening her strong cheekbones. Leah was gorgeous, and sweet, and funny, and so painfully in love.</p><p>Theresa liked Sam too. She could picture them getting old suitcases and cardboard boxes full of their clothes, memories, and past, fitting all in the trunk and backseat of Sam’s old car. She could imagine them leaving the Reserve, leaving Forks, leaving them all behind. Together, they had all they needed. She smiled.</p><p>Ethan had been all she needed once, and they could have fitted their things in a car and left. But their car was always on the risk of going off a curve and into an angry river or a stern wall. She had been happy because she had him, but she hadn’t been happy <em> with </em> him. He wasn’t a happy person either. Full of spite and intensity, Ethan had lured her in. They were a perfect storm, a tragedy waiting to happen. </p><p>And it did happen. But she survived, she was still here. Theresa sat on the bed, ignoring the agitation of her silenced ghosts. She had survived him, and so she did with herself. He was an echo now, but she lived on and on. For the first time, the notion brought yearning, yes, but satisfaction too, instead of the bitter despair and rage.</p><p>Flickering the pages until she found a drawing of him, Theresa laughed. Full of ghosts, but maybe a little less haunted.</p><p>Happiness made her careless, they would tell her. but she had them silent and so was the evening. Leah, Paul, and Sam were flicker presences in her life, she was aware. They knew nothing of her and meant very little too. However, there was something precious about them.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She dreamed of red eyes, so unfamiliar yet so known. Hands pushing her down, cold and unforgiving, and on the ground, next to her head, a light cigarette. </p><p>She woke cold and sweaty, her window open. With a chill, she closed and locked it before showering. Her mother awaited her in the kitchen with a full table. Waffles, grapes, and cranberries. She added whipped cream and thanked Anne.</p><p>“It feels like I’m still living alone, you know, you’re always out.” She said through a mouthful of food.</p><p>“I was with Leah most of the weekend.” Paul or Sam's name wouldn’t make much of a difference, but she left them out anyway.</p><p>“Leah Clearwater? I know Sue, a good woman. But her daughter is a bit older than you, no?”</p><p>“Yeah, she told me her mother’s a nurse. I thought you would know her.” Theresa said. They fell silent for a few seconds.</p><p>“Well, I know we both, apparently, have pretty busy lives, but I wanted to spend some time together. I have a free night today, we could watch some movies… or assemble a puzzle, or cook something, I don’t know.” Her mother rambled, eyes still on her breakfast.</p><p>“Movies sound great. I can make popcorn too, show-off my culinary skills with the one ‘dish’ I know how to prepare.” She interrupted her mother, feeling awkward. Anne smiled, hope bright on her face, and said goodbye before leaving for work.</p><p>Arriving a little late at school, she got in the full of cars - and empty of people - parking lot. Strolling in the halls, she chose to let the first class of the day, history, slide away. Not feeling up to stand in the cold either, she walked around until she found an empty classroom where she could laze in. </p><p>Closing the door behind her, she sat on a chair in the front of the room and pulled her sketchbook out of her bag. She hadn’t added any ghosts in the pages since her little stunt with Lauren. Yet, she felt the whisper of something in her mind. Not a face or the <em> feeling </em>, but the edge of something. Playing with lost lines on the paper, she made the thin legs of a desk. Two drawers, wooden with dark knobs. Not a desk, a dressing table. Angling her head, she tried to imagine shades in the mirror. For some lost reason, she knew there were two.</p><p>“I never pictured you as the type of student who sits next to the teacher.” Hale’s deep voice brought her back. Heart in her mouth, she glared at him. </p><p>Putting a hand on her chest, she tried to regulate her breathing. He was leaning against the desk next to hers, dressed in jeans and a light blue sweater, clearly amused at her shock. “I never pictured you as the type of student who skips class either, but you do fit right into the kind who creeps around.”</p><p>“I’m not creeping around.” Raising her eyebrows, she gesticulated to the door and to him. He rolled his eyes, before sweeping her sketchbook from her.</p><p>“Hale, give it back!” She protested, but he just smiled, flipping the pages. Giving her a cheeky wink, he corrected her “Jasper, not Hale.”</p><p>“Ok, Jasper, give it back!” She refused to get up, though, supporting her chin on the heel of her hand while he closed the sketchbook with a sigh. “The polite thing would be to offer me your first name, too.”</p><p>“Call me whatever you want, but give it back, please?” She batted her eyelashes innocently at him. He huffed.</p><p>“Ok, Tessa,” Jasper said, smirking when she blanched at the nickname. </p><p>“Not Tessa, or you’ll live with Jazz.” He laughed, then, shaking his head before telling her his siblings called him by that nickname.</p><p>“No shit you all live at each other necks.” She said under her breath, staring longingly at the small book in his hands.</p><p>Jasper looked at her for an instant “We don’t live at each other necks.”</p><p>“Yes, you do. You keep glaring at each other or at Bella or at me. But fear not, Jazz, the sun rises for the bitter too.”</p><p>He quirked an eyebrow at her choice of words but otherwise kept silent. Putting her sketchbook on her table, his eyes traced her face slowly. Unnerved by his dispassionate analysis, she did the same to him. Chin up, he stared down at her. She was torn between loving and hating this position.</p><p>Because of the angle of his head, the eyelids were dropped, and the eyelashes hovering his cheekbones made him almost pretty. The sharp cut of the jaw and towering height roughened his appearance and made him imposing. She could see a casual smile peeking out. She hated to have to look up to talk to him and yet it was a lovely sight.</p><p>“The first time you had lunch with us, you wanted to play a game of questions,” she was reminded of the day she tried to inquire about their eyes only to shot down by Rosalie “I think we could do it now. And, Tessa, I would know if you tried to lie.” Tapping in a silent pattern the cover of her book, she felt her eyes dragged to his long fingers.</p><p>“Forget the Tessa thing and you have a deal. Now, why are yours and your family’s eyes golden?” She shot back.</p><p>“Because we’re calm and sated.” She accepted with a nod. Details could come with further inquire. “The number and name beside some of your drawings… They are identifications, right?”</p><p>She just nodded. He was aware of the answer all the same, but she still felt oddly vulnerable knowing he had spied on her ghosts, so she tried to return the favor “What’s your, uh, range?”</p><p>“To know what they are feeling; the cafeteria. I need to be closer to influence the emotions, though.” He said without a pause. She risked another glimpse at his eyes, nervous energy rolling in her stomach. At the same time that she wanted to celebrate the finding of another with a curse or a blessing, she knew they were fundamentally different. He wasn’t human.</p><p>“There are a few portraits without any identification in here." She held her left hand over the sketchbook, and he froze his fingers in the air only to touch her wrist, finger slipping under her sleeve over her pulse point. She held back a gasp at the temperature of his body. Otherwise, she pretended he couldn’t feel her heartbeat spiking under his touch. “Why?”</p><p>She blinked a few times to gather herself before answering “The first drawing has the identification. If it's a repeated portrait I leave it bare.” She knew she was losing ground – ground she didn’t even care about – but the weight of his eyes and touch of his skin flared something inside her. “What happens if you are not calm or sated?”</p><p>He smiled “My eyes turn black.”</p><p>“I wasn’t asking about your eyes.” He tapped her skin and laughed lowly. </p><p>“Oh. And how did you free yourself last time?” He was speaking about the day he had bathed her with foreign feelings. Maybe not foreign, as lust was frequent in her life and, well, he was unnaturally attractive. But the intensity, the lack of control, yes, that had been him.</p><p>“I didn’t.” She could half answer too. And she actually didn’t, Ethan and Sofia had been the ones to manage her reactions and control her body. “Why your family disapproves of mine's and Bella’s presences?”</p><p>He turned her wrist up, uncovering her forearm. Holding it with one hand, he ran his fingertips over her thin scar “You did this one first, uh?” Before she could ask, he added “It’s less ragged than the other one. You are right-handed and surely the pain didn’t help with your precision.”</p><p>She held back a flinch and left her arm relaxed under his touch. “Pretty sure I asked you something, Jasper.”</p><p>She knew she could make him stop, make him take his hand away, but there was something oddly enticing about staying put under his touch. Angling her head to better watch him, she saw how his eyes slowly took the sight of her mouth, of her neck, of her cleavage, just to crawl back to her throat. Small fires started on the trail of his gaze.</p><p>“They think is unsafe.” His voice was thick and the golden of his eyes turned into a darker shade of caramel. She wondered if he was losing his cool. “For neither of us. But for you, oh, it’s deadly.”</p><p>His hand ran softly from her wrist to her arm, grazing her shoulder and skimming the sensitive skin of her neck. She shivered. He held her there, fingers on her nape tilting her head up, the heel of his hand on her pulse and thumb brushing her jaw. </p><p><em> Danger </em>, some long-forgotten instinct whispered. </p><p>With parted lips and black eyes, he spoke with his southern drawl stronger “You can feel it too, can’t you?” He held her tighter, his other hand brushing lost hair strands away from her neck and pulling her close by her shoulder. Jasper was slightly bent, shortening the distance between them. “And don’t forget, Theresa, I’ll know if you lie.”</p><p>“You know I can.” Lust heavy on her tongue, but she knew he was speaking of more, of the pull, the burning feeling under her skin, the pleasure she felt just with a glance of his. It was almost too much. Ghosts, other people, it all lay forgotten as long as she had her eyes on him. </p><p>Covering his hand with her own, she felt him, the impossible smooth texture of his skin. Hard as marble, she felt his flexing fingers under her own. Staring down at Theresa, he was an ancient statue brought to life. He was close then, breath mixing with hers. </p><p>She knew he would do something, intent strong in his movements, pulling her closer, angling her head higher, and meticulously brushing her hair away.  </p><p>“Why?” She half-whispered, grey eyes locked with his “Your family, your kind, they don’t mix with us. And they don’t want either.” His features hardened and she almost whimpered under the forceful hold he had of her shoulder. The touch on her neck was delicate, if unyielding. </p><p>“Tell me, Jasper, why are you here? What do you want from me?”</p><p>For a second, she thought he would answer. Jasper blinked, and the thumb on her jaw grazed her bottom lip. Then, he stood straight, and she had her tilted back to keep up with the movement. He smiled and his face was marked with an emotion she couldn’t read. </p><p>“All you can give, Theresa, and more.”</p><p>Then, his touch was gone, and he was leaning on the desk beside her again. The past minutes were almost a faraway dream, but the feeling of being at his mercy stayed. She hated it and hated even more how she craved his touch. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to make a scathing comment.</p><p>Edward entered the empty classroom, followed by his sister after a millisecond.</p><p>“Oh, I’m right on time!” Alice Cullen said, huge eyes checking Theresa’s whole body, only to turn to Jasper “You… you had decided. I saw it!” </p><p>They all looked at each other. Theresa burst out laughing. Standing up, she said between chuckles “Just count on the Cullens to make everything even more awkward”, picked her sketchbook, and walked away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm trying to keep one POV for the whole chapter, so I think the next one will be focused on Theresa again. Let's see. Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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